


8:45 AM

by Its_SPNational



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Angst, Destiel - Freeform, M/M, Mild Gore, Plot Twist, Smut, Supernatural - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-24
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-08-10 16:58:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 20
Words: 81,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7853491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Its_SPNational/pseuds/Its_SPNational
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>August 5th, 1997. A ring binds the love of two high school sweethearts Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak. However, through the struggles of adapting to the harsh realities and facing tragedies, Dean's spiral into alcoholism threatens to break the ring which holds them together. As abuse, both emotional and physical, works to be balanced out by love and devotion the two plan to move to New York City- a place Castiel has always dreamed of- to start anew and mend the broken wounds of their relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. New York, New York

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: This fic handles heavy topics such as abuse, addiction, depression, and more. Please be aware of this as you read. And don't forget to leave a kudo! Thank you!

Lawrence, Kansas

18 years ago

   New York Square was full of hammered college kids, screaming and cheering. Every News station was there, covering the huge event. Dean and Castiel were on their couch, snuggling together as they watched from their television screen. "Another year." Castiel said with a sigh. He looked up at Dean, who was staring blankly at the screen. Cas looked back down. The silence was unbearable. Dean's arm was around his shoulders, holding him close despite the fight they had earlier. Cas looked at the huge time displayed at the top corner of the screen. 11:55:19. Sharp exhale. "Dean," He said, which managed to get him to make eye contact with Castiel. "Say something."

   Dean rolled his eyes. "Cas," His voice was that rough, irritated tone he got after a fight. "What do yo want me to say?" Dean's grip, Cas noticed, loosened slightly on his shoulder. He was losing him again.

   "What should we do this year?" Castiel asked, winning him a raised eyebrow. "I mean," He said, shifting so he was sitting up straight and turning to face Dean. 11:56:43. "It's about to be 1999. The last year of this century." Castiel pointed out, desperate for Dean to contribute to the idea of doing something other than working and fighting. "Maybe we could go somewhere?"

   "Like where?" Dean huffed. "We don't have money, Cas."

   Castiel knew Dean was just trying to avert from his main point. "Like," Cas looked at the TV again. "New York." He said, smiling. "I've always wanted to go." Castiel looked back at Dean. "We can save up. Go on a long car drive to the city." Cas was getting excited now, and Dean just stared at him. He could've sworn he saw adornment in those green eyes. "Promise me?" Castiel said, clenching Dean's shirt in his hands.

   Dean smiled back. "Okay Cas." He said. "If we can save up enough money to drive to New York, we can go." Dean leaned over and kissed Castiel. Cas smiled back when they parted, and snuggled back down into Dean's chest. 11:59:30. The crowd, he realized, was losing it as the ball dropped. Almost at the bottom. Castiel reached forward and grabbed the two glasses of champagne off the coffee table. "A new year." He said, giving Dean his glass. The second the clocked switched from 11:59:59 to 12:00:00, they clicked their glasses together and took the drink down. News Anchors kissed, college kids shoved their tongues down each other's throats, everyone was packed and cheering beneath the huge advertisement screens that all read '1999!' in large font.

   Castiel and Dean fell asleep on the couch that night, bundled together in warm blankets against January's frigid winter.

\- - -

    "CAS!" Is what he awoke to, realizing Dean was no longer beside him. The TV was off, lights on, blankets thrown aside. Castiel rose his hand to rub his eyes, waking up, eyes adjusting to the light. "CAS!" Dean yelled again, from the kitchen. Castiel managed to find his feet, tossing the blankets that were left on him to the couch. He shook his hair with both hands, then walked out to the kitchen. Castiel was met with an excited kiss. "Look, look!" Dean encouraged then, a huge smile on his face. The newspaper that was shoved in Castiel's face, he finally focused on, read 'HIRING: Bobby's Body Shop'. "I think I should apply. I'm good with cars." Dean said, looking at the newspaper then back to Cas.

   Castiel was smiling, then wrapped his arms around Dean's neck. "Yes, yes you should." Maybe 1999 would be a good year, finally. Cas grabbed the pot of coffee Dean had brewing, mixed in the sugar and cream, then sat at the kitchen table and sipped it while Dean was on the phone.

   "Uh, no sir," Dean said, eyes flickering all over the place as he was thinking. "Yes... Yes. Okay, awesome. Thank you sir." Dean said, putting his phone away and smiling at Castiel.

   Cas stared at him, waiting for the words. But after a few moments of nothing, Cas had to initiate the conversation. "So?" He asked.

   "I start tomorrow." Dean grinned.

   "That's great!" Castiel laughed, drinking more of the coffee. "Well, maybe we will be able to make it to New York." He slipped in, receiving a nod from Dean who drank his own coffee.

   At 8:20, Castiel showered then got dressed in his usual attire- a white button up dress shirt, black dress pants with a belt, and a blue tie. "I'll be back at 7 tonight." Castiel yelled out to Dean as he pulled his trench from the coat rack and headed out the door. His first job started at 9am, where he worked as a secretary for the Barber Emerson, L.C law firm. At 3, Castiel got off that job and worked until 7 at Sears.

   Unlocking and sitting in his gold '78 Lincoln Continental, Cas turned the key in the ignition and revved her up. Backing out of the driveway, Castiel always made sure not to leave a single scratch on Dean's '67 Black Chevy Impala, something is father gave to him when they got 'married'. He had already been set straight from when he accidentally bumped the mirror with the car. No damage had been done, but damn, Dean's aim was not bad when he threw bottles of whiskey. Castiel drove to the law firm, parking in the employee reserves and clicking the lock button until the car's horn went off once. Cas's bag, slung over his shoulder, held his lunch and cell phone, as well as his list of numbers he had to reference with in case important people called. Finding his seat at the desk in the main lobby, Castiel took calls from opening to 3, either forwarding them to his boss if they were clients, redirected people to Human Resource, or confirming appointment dates. At 3:18 Castiel was packing up and running out the door, saying bye to the coworkers on the way out, and making a bee-line for his car. Unlocking the door, he threw his bag inside to the passenger seat and sat in the driver's. Shutting the door next to him, Castiel turned the car on and headed to Sears where he'd work on sorting the back room and restocking until 7.

   Out the door at 7:06, Cas drove home. It was almost dark by 5, so at 7 it was pitch black out aside from the street lights. The house was dark and silent when he got home, and Castiel was quiet when he hung his trench back up on the coat rack. Cas worked at his tie, sliding out of his clothes and into pajamas once he got into their bedroom. Dean was passed out in bed, still in his shirt and jeans. His shoes had been kicked off at the foot of the bed, and Castiel moved them onto the floor half tucked underneath the bed. He shook Dean lightly, kissing him on the forehead. "Dean," He said, but all he got in response was a grunt and Dean was back asleep. Castiel smiled softly, then walked to his side of the bed and got in. He backed up so his back was against Dean's abdomen, and moved Dean's arm so it wrapped around his waist.

   The days that Castiel came home to Dean sleeping instead of drinking were far and few between, and his favorite. There was no yelling, no swearing, no violence. When Dean got drunk- and he didn't stop until he was- it was nearly impossible to reason or control him. He also seemed to forget his own strength, as he often resorted to pushing, kicking, or throwing objects at Castiel. In those times, Cas slept on the couch sometimes crying until he fell asleep. Dean would end up in bed, as Castiel would drag him there when he got to the point where he couldn't stand up anymore.

   So when the nights came when Castiel found Dean was already asleep, he never let himself fall asleep right away. He usually moved them so Dean was holding him, a position he missed a lot since Dean changed into an alcoholic. Castiel enjoyed the silence and warmth drawn from these blue moon nights. Finally, when he felt true peace, he drifted off under Dean's hold.

\- - -

   The next morning, Dean woke up last. Castiel was getting dressed when he opened his eyes. "Uughh..." He said, pressing a palm to his eye. "What time is it?"

   "6:30." Castiel answered, now standing in front of the mirror as he put his blue tie back on. "What time does your job start?" He asked, looking at Dean through the mirror.

   "Eight." Dean said, his head falling back to the pillows. Castiel laughed a bit. "Can you make coffee while I get dressed?"

   "Of course." Nodding, Cas adjusted his tie and then walked from the bedroom to the kitchen. He filled the coffee maker with the ground coffee, then poured water in and closed the top. It took about two minutes to brew, so he packed himself a lunch again and made sure he had his notebook and phone in the bag as well. Dean emerged from the room with his jacket on and a pair of worn jeans. He grabbed two coffee cups and poured himself and Cas a cup, adding the sugar and cream just as Cas liked it. Him, he liked it black.

   "Thank you." Castiel said, walking over and grabbing the cup Dean held out to him. They sat at the table, listening to the news that was playing in the living room.

    _The Euro currency has been introduced to the EU_ , one anchor said. It was the top story of the day.

   Dean cleaned up the dishes too. Cas hadn't seen him so excited for something in years, and it made him smile. Dean was whistling, moving around. "You look happy to work." Castiel mentioned.

   "I am," Dean said, turning around and leaning on the counter top, supported by his hands flat against the surface. "And it's a job I can do."

   "I'm happy for you." Cas smiled, walking over to Dean and kissing him. "Call me at lunch, I want to know how your day has been."

   Dean smiled into the kiss. "Okay."

   Castiel and Dean both left together, taking their own cars and parting at the end of the driveway. Castiel drove west to the law firm, and Dean east to the auto shop.

   Dean arrived, parking in the back lot where his car was out of site from the road. He grabbed a pair of old gloves he had from when he use to work on his car, and carried them into the garage. Sitting in the corner in a make-shift office was an older man wearing a hat and vest jacket. "Uh," Dean said, walking closer and leaning in through the doorway to the office. "Mr. Singer?" He asked, causing the man to turn around. He was holding a book in his hands, probably looking over the appointments. "I'm Dean Winchester, I called yesterday." The man nodded, standing up and walking over. Holding out his hand, he looked up at Dean.

   "Of course, son." He smiled. "And just call me Bobby." Nodding his head towards the garage behind Dean, he drew attention to the car jacked up. "The brakes stopped on that one. Let's see what you've got."

   Breaks. A simple problem, one Dean had worked on and fixed countless times. Dean leaned into the car, turning on the emergency park. He then grabbed a flat head screwdriver and slid himself under the car, locating the caliper. He loosened it, finding it easy to slide off. The screwdriver probably wasn't necessary. "Breaker bar, please." Dean requested, feeling the metal contact his palm and gripping it. Fitting the butt of the bar onto the bolt, Dean removed the caliper carrier. Next he removed the rotor, brushed off rust that would have impeded on the new one, and installed new rotors. Dean secured the rotor with an open-ended wrench, then wiped it down with a degreaser. After the rotor was cleaned, Dean installed new calipers and brake pads. Placing the wheels back on, Dean repeated the process with the other three wheels. Once the wheels were all replaced, Dean lowered the car and sat in the driver's seat. His foot fell on the brakes and pumped them three times.

   The replacement of the breaks took him about two hours to complete, and Bobby was watching him the whole time. Luckily, Dean thought, he didn't ever speak up to correct me.

   "You're very experienced with cars, I can tell." Bobby mentioned after Dean had finished the brakes. "Did you use to work with cars?"

   "Not in a business, but I'm the one who kept up the car I have today. My dad gave it to me as a wedding gift, and ever since he passed away I've been keeping it in good condition." Dean said, wiping his hands with a nearby rag to get the oil off. "I learned what I could from him, and then taught myself with the rest."

   Bobby nodded. "Well, you did a great job with this one. I'd love to see you come back, son."

   Dean smiled, throwing the rag over his shoulder. He looked up at the clock above the garage door. It was 10:23. He looked back down to Bobby. "I'd like to be able to work here." He smiled.

   Bobby smiled back, then made a hand motion towards the office. "I'm going to call the owner of the car and tell them it's ready." He then walked back to the office after Dean nodded, and grabbed the cord phone on the wall. Flipping through the notebook, Bobby found the number of the owner and wrote a small check mark next to it. Dean only saw him nodding, but couldn't hear what he was saying well. Bobby hung up the phone, writing the bill. He handed the information to Dean. "Take care of this when they come, I'll call the next customer to tell them we're ready."

   "All right." Dean agreed, waiting in the garage by the car. It was about fifteen minutes after the exchange that the car owner pulled up with someone else driving- Dean assumed she was his sister or wife. "Your call is good to go." He said, handing the bill to the man. "Brakes have been replaced." The man looked at the bill, brows furrowed. For a second Dean was worried something was wrong, but the man looked back up at Dean and smiled.

   "Thank you." He said, and Dean shook his hand. The customer then pulled out a checkbook, wrote the amount, and handed it to Dean. He then drove off, followed by the woman in the car they arrived in. The next customer pulled up a few minutes later, parking their car in the garage.

   "Just an inspection." The woman said.

   Dean nodded. "We'll call you when it's ready. She smiled, and walked back out to where Dean noticed another car was parked and she hopped in. Bobby came back out, taking the check from Dean when he held it out. "Inspection on this one." Dean said, to which Bobby said nothing. "I'll get to it."

   Dean did a once-over on the whole car, looking for wearing and leaks. He didn't find any. Next, Dean moved to the engine compartment. He looked at the fluid levels, which were all in order, and examined for leaks. None. He checked on the alternator, the water pump, compressor belts and the A.C system. He looked to see if any of the wires were frayed or cracked, but everything so far was in check. Leaving the hood open, Dean turned the engine on and listened for any noises. Nothing. Dean got back out and closed the hood, then sat in the driver's seat. Dean checked over the gauges and warning lights, tested the steering wheels, accelerators, breaks and clutch pedals. Nothing was wrong thus far. The blinkers, wipers and washers ran smoothly, and all the mirrors were in tact. The driver's seat was secure, as well as the seat belt. Shutting off the engine, Dean went back around and checked all the headlights, as well as if the flashers, running lights, brake lights and high beams worked.

   Walking around the car, Dean inspected the wheels and suspensions, the fuel tank, exhaust system, tailpipe and steering system. Getting back in the car, he tested the brakes. All went well, and Dean reported so to Bobby. "Inspection was good, nothing needs a repair. One headlight is a bit dim, but works just fine."

   Bobby nodded, then looked at the clock. Two and a half hours had passed by. "Go have lunch, I'll take it from here." He said, then walked back to his office to finish the paperwork. Dean went out back to his car and grabbed the lunch he packed out of a bag, bringing it up to the table that was against the back wall of the garage. After Dean finished eating, he got his cell out and called Cas.

   "Hey," He said, leaning back against the wall.

   Castiel, on the other end, was still eating his lunch at the front desk of the firm. "How's work?" He asked with a mouthful of a sandwich.

   "It's great, I really like it here." Dean said, smiling. "Yeah." He said as Bobby came out back to call him in and tell him the next car was here. "Love you too, babe." Dean said, and once Cas said bye he put his phone away. "Sorry, I had to call my-" Dean stopped, watching his tongue. He didn't know what Bobby would think of a gay couple, so he quickly said "spouse. Wanted to know how my first day went." Bobby nodded, not seeming to notice his pause.

   "The woman picked her car up and paid, our last customer is here. Just a light replacement." Bobby informed Dean, to which Dean got up and followed Bobby in after tossing his empty lunch bag into the trash can right next to the picnic table. The next car was a dark red '65 Ford Mustang Fastback, a car Dean could appreciate. The front lights, the man explained, were out and he got ticketed for it. Dean couldn't help but notice that the man was nervously twisting his ring on his finger as he talked, though he didn't seem nervous. Dean nodded, and said it wouldn't take long to fix. The man said he would stay here since he didn't have any way to leave, so he sat on a chair by the front of the garage while Dean replaced the light bulbs.

   When Dean finished, he called the man in, and he received another check for his work. Bobby waved the man off, and took the check to put into the day's earnings. Bobby came back out and handed Dean his share. "I'll see you Tuesday." He said. Considering that it was Saturday, his work next week would start Tuesday and then go back on a normal track of weekends off. Dean thanked Bobby, then went out back to his car and drove home. He got home earlier than Castiel, and fell right asleep on the bed after changing out of his sweaty clothes.

   Castiel got home to a quiet house again, and he smiled. Two nights in a row. He wasn't quite surprised as fixing cars was a taxing job that Dean jumped into after a couple years of unemployment. Castiel did the same thing he had the previous night. He curled up next to Dean in bed, placing his arm over his waist again, and slowly falling asleep after a while of enjoying the silence.


	2. Repercussions

   Dean was great for a few months after getting his job at Bobby's Body Shop. Their relationship was running smoothly, they were earning enough money to pay rent on time and buy enough food. It was April 16th when Castiel felt as though everything they built came crashing down, and Dean was the one that pulled a brick out. He slipped up at work again, Bobby receiving a complaint of Dean yelling at a customer. He was drinking again, though not as heavily as before. It was enough to bring out some anger though, and Bobby had had enough that day. Dean was fired over the phone in the evening, to which he responded by slamming the phone back on the holder and kicking in the cabinet door under the sink.

   "What happened?" Castiel asked, eyes a bit large when he looked up from the newspaper. He regretted speaking when Dean didn't respond, and Cas could see his body trying to contain the rage.

   "Fired." Dean muttered.

   Castiel contemplated whether he should pretend he heard him and risk winging a response, or ask him again and probably be screamed at. He decided on the first one. "Oh, that's..." He didn't really know what to say. "That's..."

   Dean sighed, trying to calm down. He grabbed the fridge door and flung it open, causing the fridge to rock a bit and shake the contents inside resulting in a choir of glass bumping against glass. He grabbed a beer, took a swig, and sat by Cas with his head lowered. "What's wrong with me, Cas." He asked, looking over at him before sitting up and taking another drink.

   "You'll have to specify." Cas smiled and joked, but the smile faded when Dean just stared at his beer, spinning it slowly between his fingers.

   "I mean," Dean said, eyes still spacey. "This is the third job I got fired for."

   Oh no. He was fired. "Honestly?" Castiel asked, which got Dean to look at him and nod. "Well, drinking makes you..." Cas tried to put this delicately. He found the words. "It makes you a rage-driven asshole, Dean." He said, but Dean just shook his head and laughed. "I'm not joking, Dean." Castiel tried again, but Dean only took another drink of his beer.

   "No." Dean simply said, but his voice showed that he was annoyed by Castiel's response. He stood up and walked away, heading towards the bedroom. Castiel followed, walking quickly and reaching for Dean's arm. Dean spun around to meet him. "Let go of me." Dean growled.

   "Listen to me." Castiel pleaded, only tightening his grip. Dean tried to pull his arm away, but Cas refused to let go. "You need to stop drinking."

   "Get the FUCK off me, Cas!" Dean screamed, resulting in his beer being smashed at Castiel's feet and what was left spilling over the wood. The crash startled Cas and Dean managed to pull away.

   "Dean, please I-" Castiel started, but Dean pushed him backwards. Cas didn't fall over, but just moved his feet so he walked back to keep his balance.

   "Leave me alone." Dean was getting angrier, and Castiel could see where this was going. "I'm going to bed." He would too, and he'd wake up upset when he realized he didn't have a job to go to. For tonight, though, Castiel looked to the couch when Dean slammed the door behind him. He sighed at another failed attempt, and set up the couch by grabbing a pillow and blanket from the box he kept beside it for these nights.

   Castiel fell asleep surprisingly quickly, as he usually was up for hours after a fight from the stress. He expected that would happen again, so he had turned the TV on. What he didn't expect, however, was to wake up in the middle of the night to Dean's face close to his. He couldn't see, but the sobbing led to the conclusion that Dean was crying. Castiel's eyes adjusted to the dark, and he could make out what was Dean's outline in front of him. Dean's head fell against Castiel's chest soaking through his shirt, and Castiel just ran a hand through Dean's hair.

  "It's all my fault." Dean was crying, obviously still intoxicated.

  "Shhh..." Castiel hushed him, slowly stroking Dean's head front to back as his soft hair fed through Castiel's fingers.

  "Yes it is." Dean insisted through sobs. "Everything is my fault."

  "Things happen, Dean." Castiel said softly, trying to comfort Dean so he could get back to sleep. Dean might not have work in the morning, but Castiel still did and he'd rather come home to a well-rested Dean than another thrown bottle. He wondered if Dean just walked over the broken glass by the door, that would've hurt. "Not everything is your fault."

  Dean wasn't taking it. He didn't respond though, he just continued crying. He became increasingly quieter though, and he lifted his head from Castiel's now damp shirt. "Come back to bed?" He asked, and Cas just nodded and stood up with Dean. He left the pillows there, took Dean's arm around his shoulders, and helped him walk back. Watching where he stepped, Castiel walked them over the glass and put Dean back in bed.

   "I'll be right back." He whispered, and walked out. He hit the light switch and grabbed a handheld broom and dust pan, sweeping up the glass and throwing it away. He didn't feel like working at the sticky mess that was still there, so he just stepped over it and turned the lights out. Crawling in bed, Castiel felt Dean pull him close and nestling his face against Castiel's back. After a bit, Dean's breathing became steady and slow again. Castiel fell asleep as well.

\- - -

   Castiel was up first in the morning, leaving Dean to get rest. He got dressed- white shirt, black pants, blue tie- and walked out of the room. His foot found the sticky mess he left behind, to which he groaned and found the wood polisher from the cleaning supplies as well as an old towel. Scrubbing away, Castiel was almost finished when he looked up a bit to see another pair of feet. Dean was awake and standing in front of him. Castiel moved quietly to the side, but when he looked up further to see Dean's face he realized his hands were rubbing his eyes and probably didn't realize Castiel was even there still. Cas was silent as Dean moved forward, and he just watched him.

   Dean looked around. "Hm." He said, still in his pajamas. Dean grabbed the fridge door, but wasn't violent this time. He pulled out a beer, and Castiel felt his chest drop. He stood up from scrubbing.

   "Drinking, this early?" He asked, and Dean jumped slightly and looked his way.

   "I-" Dean said, closing the fridge. "I thought you were gone already." Dean said, looking scolded but only for a second before furrowing his brows. "Since when do you get to tell me if I drink?"

   "Since you got fired again, Dean." Castiel said, semi-slamming the wood polisher on the counter and tossing the towel in the sink. He put one hand on the counter and leaned on it, other hand on his waist. "I mean it."

   This only pissed Dean off, and he used the bottle opener bolted to the wall and took a sip. Castiel shook his head and sighed, turning away from Dean and grabbing his bag and trench coat. Putting it on, Castiel grabbed a lunch from the fridge and packed it in his bag. Phone, lunch, keys. Check. Without any more words, Castiel slammed the front door behind him and he walked out to his car. It was a cold morning, which only worsened his mood. He got in his car, slamming the door, backed out and drove to work. Castiel's hands were tight on the steering wheel, his knuckles whitening. The drive seemed longer than usual, but eventually Castiel arrived and parked in the usual spot he did. Grabbing his bag, Cas walked to his seat at the front desk. He pulled out his notebook and began taking the calls. A wrong number here, an appointment there. The usual. But during the day, even at Sears, Castiel couldn't help the fact that it felt as though a rock was lodged in his stomach. Anger. It was called anger. His chest felt tight, and he wanted to hit something.

   Seven o'clock came around very slowly, and by the time it did Castiel didn't feel angry anymore. The girl he works with at Sears, Megan, always cheered him up and he was quite open to her about his relationship with Dean. She could probably recite their entire life story together at this point, Castiel relied on her a lot for his mental and emotional stability in the work place. He vented to her, and she helped him out. So when he opened the door to see the lights on and Dean drinking at the kitchen counter with probably six empty bottles scattered around, along with two half-drunk bottles, Castiel felt the stress return. "DEAN!" He yelled, tossing his bag and trench beside. He walked up to him quite quickly, and Dean was turned towards him gripping a bottle in his hands. Castiel grabbed the jacket he was wearing, shaking him slightly. He smacked the beer from his hands, and felt himself tearing up. "Please." He said, not as harshly, and Dean just shoved him. Hard. Cas fell back this time, landing on his back on the ground. Dean started kicking. And kicking. And kicking. "DEAN!" Castiel screamed, putting his hands out to try to stop his feet. But it didn't work, and Castiel curled up as he usually found himself when this happened. Dean's shoe repeatedly worked at Castiel's arms and ribs, one hitting Castiel's stomach that knocked the breath out of him.

   Dean was screaming at him while he kicked him, yelling at him about how he wasn't the one in control, that he had no say in what he drank, he didn't own him. Castiel didn't respond, and just continued to lay on the floor sobbing hoarsely. Dean was crying too. Eventually, Dean stopped and leaned against the kitchen counter with his face buried in his arms. Cas got to his hands and knees, crawling away. He was pretty sure Dean bruised a rib. Or both. He made his way to his trench coat, pulling it down which ended up causing the coat rack to crash down too. Dean didn't move. Castiel pulled his phone out of his pocket and called Megan.

   "I need..." Castiel's voice was gasping, but every breath was painful.

   "The door is open." Megan said on the other line, and Castiel nodded as though she could see him. He hung up and found himself to his feet, leaving Dean and shutting the door behind him. He leaned against the door outside, trying to catch his breath. Every inhale caused a shock of pain to course through his body. Making his way to his car, Castiel held one arm against his ribs as he opened the door and sat down. The impact caused another wave of pain through him, and he winced. The drive to Megan's house was only a couple minute away, and Castiel fell through her door when she opened it. "Oh my god, Castiel." She said, catching him. "What happened?" Meg asked, helping Castiel over to her couch. "I'll get you something hot, tea?" Cas nodded. "Okay, okay." Her voice was panicky, and Cas could tell she was trying to keep her cool. When Meg returned with tea, she sat on the love seat beside her couch. "What happened?"

   "I tried to," Inhale. Wince. "He was drinking," Inhale. Wince. Grasp of his rib. "I tried to stop him and he just..." Castiel trailed off this time, finding a way to breathe that barely expanded his chest. "He was really drunk and pushed me." Meg was staring at him with those sad eyes of hers, her hands folded together as she leaned towards Castiel. "He just kept. Kicking." Castiel said.

   Silence filled the room for a minute or so, and Megan spoke up. "I don't understand, why don't you leave him?"

   "I can't." Inhale. Wince. "I can't just leave him alone, or just drop him off somewhere." Castiel explained, his arm tightening around his ribs. Megan must have noticed because she held up a finger and walked to her kitchen, returning with a hot pack to lay across him. "Thank you." Cas said. He let her treat him, and she sat back down to listen. "I'm all he has. I want to get the man I loved back." Determination somehow seeped through the pain that drowned his voice.

   "Okay, but we need to get you to a hospital Castiel. You need a doctor to check you." Castiel didn't protest, and just nodded. Meg walked to find a phone and called an ambulance. "Twenty minutes." She said, putting a hand on Cas's bicep and rubbing it like a mother does to her son. "I'm always here, Castiel." She assured him, and he smiled through the agony.

   It was twenty eight minutes later that the ambulance's siren wailed through and stopped in front of the house. The sirens cut, but the lights continued to rotate through the windows, filling the house with a red and blinding light. Paramedics came through the front door, quickly moving Castiel to a gurney while questioning Megan. "Yes, that's correct. He was jumped while walking. No, no I wasn't with him. Yes, I work with him. Sears. I don't know. No." Megan's answers flew from her mouth, bouncing between truth and lie. Megan got in the ambulance behind Cas, riding with him as they put an oxygen mask over him and strapped him to the stretcher. A doctor wrote notes as Megan explained the situation again, or at least explained the situation she came up with. Castiel admired that about her, if she needed to she could lie off a whim. He fell asleep in the ambulance.

   When he woke, a doctor was standing beside him while nurses came in and out of the room. He was taking shallow breaths to ease the pain, but the doctor scolded him. "Breathe normally. I know it hurts but you'll get an infection if you don't. You need to be coughing too." Castiel cried out when the doctor pressed on his ribs. "I won't do that again, I just needed to see where it hurt exactly." Scribble scribble. "Okay, Mr. Novak. Is your wife able to handle your medical records?" Castiel spoke up to correct him, but Megan quickly rushed in to the situation and assured the doctor she could handle it. The doctor took her aside, and they chatted about Castiel's state of health. She read over and signed some paperwork, mostly about giving the hospital permission to do their work.

   The doctor returned later, Meg sitting a chair by Castiel and running a hand through his hair. "Alright, Mr. Novak. I'm prescribing you pain killers so you can breathe much easier. I recommend Aspirin or Tylenol, but I am going to write you a prescription for Vicodin in case the over-the-counter medicines don't work.

   "Thank you, doctor." Megan said for Castiel, receiving the papers and a bottle of Aspirin for now. She gave it to Castiel with a drink of water, which he took down. He could feel the water and pill go down his throat and into his chest, causing a sharp pain to happen again. He groaned.

   "I'd like to keep him here overnight, Mrs. Novak." The doctor said, not looking up from the clipboard.

   "Yes, that's fine." Meg nodded, then turned towards Cas. "I'll call your brother and let him know you're okay." She said, winking at him to tell him to go along. Castiel just nodded, his hand gently touching her arm before falling back to his side. "Be right back." Megan said, squeezing his hand in hers and walking out to find privacy.

   The doctor now looked up from the papers. "I'll leave you to rest here. There's a call button by your hand on the side of the bed if you need a nurse, and the button in your hand will increase the morphine. It's limited though, we don't want you to die." He said, turning and leaving the room after Castiel nodded in response.

   Megan returned from the phone call almost 20 minutes later, sighing as she sat down. She looked mad.

   "What did he say?" Castiel asked, watching her with concerned eyes.

   "Oh, just that he uh, would come in the morning to see you." He could tell she was lying. She was good at lying to anyone but him, and he could tell because she started playing with her fingers.

   "Mhm." Castiel nodded. "And what did he actually say?"

   "Nothing intelligible." Megan shook her head. "Slurs of 'fuck yous' and 'I'm better off without hims'. I don't understand why you want to help him, Castiel." Her eyes were concerned now.

   "You don't know the man I fell in love with." Castiel said, and the shine in his eyes got brighter than usual as he thought back. "He was amazing, sweet, and full of love and devotion. But then he started drinking, and I've been losing him ever since." His eyes dulled, and the rims became wet with tears before they overflowed and trailed down his cheeks. "I want him back, I owe it to his old self to try and break through."

   "What if you take the alcohol out of the equation?" Megan suggested, but Castiel only shook his head.

   "I've tried, he just buys more while I'm at work." Castiel thought for a second. "Speaking of which, could you..." He coughed once, twice, then broke into a violent outburst of coughing and rolled onto his side, curling in a ball trying to ease the pain. It didn't work, but his body just curled more.

   Megan stood up quickly, putting her hands on his shoulders to try to help him. Castiel's thumb clicked on the morphine twice, and his coughing fit stopped. Megan rolled him on his back, fixing the sheets that were over him. "I will, I'll let them know. But tonight, I'm sleeping here."

   "That's not necessary." Castiel insisted, but Megan wasn't asking. She pulled the chair closer to him, leaning forward so her arms overlapped across the length of the rod that ran around the edge of the bed and put her head to the side on them.

   Castiel fell asleep, but woke himself and Megan up multiple times during the night with coughing. They didn't grab the nurses until Castiel coughed up blood around 4 AM. Megan was pushed aside as the doctor and two nurses filed in, cleaning up the blood. "Good thing we kept him here, looks like one of his ribs have been fractured." The doctor said, helping roll Castiel to the x-ray room. They quickly moved Castiel from the bed to the table, and got confirmation of a fractured rib from the x-rays. "This wasn't caused by the attack." The doctor said, pointing at how the ribs were broken. "They aren't far enough apart for external causes, it's from his coughing fits." He explained mostly to Megan, but Castiel was listening as well. "There's not much we can do for a broken rib except let time heal it and give him pain medications. If he'd like, we would recommend giving him an incentive spirometer." Megan nodded, and he handed her the spirometer. "Sit him up as far as he can so he can take deep breaths. His mouth goes around the mouthpiece here," He said, running a gloved finger across the part he spoke of. "And he breathes as deep as he can."

   Megan and Castiel were sent back to the room and she periodically replaced the rag on his chest that caught the blood from his coughing. After a cough attack, she helped him sit up and use the spirometer. The doctors held Castiel for two days after, then sent him home. Dean didn't show up at all. Megan drove him back to her place first when she got back from work, then moved him over to his car and drove him home in it. She insisted she could walk, as her house was just a ten minute walk. Castiel thanked her after she helped him up the porch stairs and into his house. She sat him down on the couch, then left.

   The house was silent, but the lights were left on. "Dean?" Castiel shouted out, but there was no response. Cas stood up, slowly making his way to the sink and getting a glass of water. He removed the bottle of Vicodin the doctor now insisted he take. Taking it down, Castiel placed the bottle back in his trench pocket and laid back on the couch, placing the glass of water on the coffee table beside him. He adjusted onto his side, finding a position that didn't make his chest feel like it was collapsing. His breathing was wheezy on his side, but Castiel fought it as he was told many times to remember to breathe. Castiel didn't want to go back to the hospital for a respiratory infection treatment. He fell asleep on the couch.

\- - -

   It was about 2 am when Castiel woke up, now covered in a blanket. The lights were dim, and he looked over to see a note on the coffee table held down at the corner by the glass of water. Rubbing his eyes, Castiel leaned slightly to read what it said.

_Cas,_

_I'm so sorry I lashed out on you, and I don't know where you went. I don't remember much, but I remember you leaving because the sound of the door slamming is engraved in my head. I passed out soon after, I think. But that doesn't matter. I hope I didn't hurt you, I would never forgive myself for it._

_Please forgive me._

  Castiel's heart dropped in his chest. He hadn't even considered that Dean was so hammered he wouldn't remember beating the ever-living shit out of Castiel that day. _Is he home?_ Castiel thought, looking around. Cas didn't move though, and instead fell back asleep.

\- - -

   The smell of coffee brought Castiel to consciousness, and he slowly sat up from the couch and looked back towards the kitchen. He winced, causing Dean to turn around. "You bruised my ribs." Castiel said, and saw Dean's face drop. "Which, indirectly, caused a fracture from coughing." Castiel's voice was incredibly salty as he glared at Dean.

   Dean didn't say anything, but just stared. Castiel could tell he was trying to remember the night when he was smashed. His eyes were going everywhere, something he did when he was trying to recall information. "What... did I do?" He finally managed, his eyes locking onto Cas's.

   "What you always do when you get drunk, Dean." Castiel's voice was not showing any signs of sympathy to Dean. "You've kicked me before, but never enough to drive me out. You're getting worse, Dean." Dean was just shaking his head slowly, trying to wrap his head around what he was being told. The room was silent.

   "I-" Dean started, but Castiel was shaking his head.

   "Don't. Just don't." Castiel interrupted him. "I can take care of myself."

   Dean's eyes were on the ground now, but he nodded lightly before turning and finishing making his coffee. He went back to the bedroom and shut the door behind him.

   Castiel fell back asleep.


	3. Turmoil

   Castiel sat at home for four weeks, letting his ribs heal. He was mostly found at the couch, and Dean served him every meal he could. Megan stopped by a lot, not sharing any words with Dean as she gave Castiel food and money. Dean took precious care of Castiel those four weeks, getting him anything and everything he asked for. Cas knew it wouldn't last past his body being fully healed- physically, that is. He knew because he wouldn't stop trying to help Dean, and Dean wouldn't stop getting angry when he drank.

   When Castiel returned to work, the office held a 'Welcome Back' party, many offering their condolences and wishes of health for Castiel as he was healing. They ate a cake and chatted in the break room for a few hours, putting interns on the phones.

   "Thank you, really." He said as the last coworker left the break room, and he shut the door behind him as he walked back out to the front desk where to work at. The usual calls went through, the appointments and forwarding of clientele. Three o'clock came around quickly, and Castiel left for Sears. Castiel got back in his car, the position causing a sore pain in his ribs but nothing major. He shifted out of park and drove to Sears. Megan met him at the entrance, wrapping her arms up around his neck and pulling him into a hug. He hugged her back.

   "How are you doing?" Megan asked when she stepped back.

   "I'm okay." Castiel saw the lack of belief in her eyes. "Really, I'm okay. He's been treating me like a Queen, he really does feel bad. I just need to find a better way to get to him." He smiled, but the look on Megan's face didn't change. He sighed. "Let's just go organize some khakis." That she smiled back at, leading the way to the back. Castiel had left his trench and bag in the car, he realized, but ended up deciding on not going out to get it. Nothing he needed in it anyways. "So, what have I missed so far?"

   "Nothing much, just the usual." Megan said, folding clothes quickly and stacking them in the appropriate piles. "Well, Hannah quit while you were away. She was offered a really nice job in Seattle at a publishing company." Castiel just nodded. They continued to fold clothes, talking about anything that wasn't about Castiel's ribs or Dean.

   Seven rolled around too soon, Castiel thought as he got in his car. He started the car up, then noticed the light on his cell phone was blinking. He had eight missed calls from Dean. Raising an eyebrow, Castiel set his phone back on top of his bag and shut the door, pulling the seat belt down. He drove home as quickly as he could, opening the front door and hanging his trench and bag up. "Dean?" He called out, and a drunk Dean lifted his head up from the kitchen table as Castiel walked past the wall that separated the living room from the dining room. "Are you drunk again?" He asked, obviously knowing the answer to that.

   "I tried to call you." Dean slurred together, putting his head in his palm for a second before looking back up. "I didn't know where you went. You left."

   "Dean, I was at work." Castiel reminded him, taking a seat at the end of the table and leaving a seat between Dean and himself. He felt guilty for fearing Dean, but he had good reason to.

   "You crawled away and I-"

   "That was four weeks ago, Dean."

   "...Oh yeah." Dean hiccuped, returning his head to his hand. He had a beer slightly tipping in his hand, but resting against the table. This wasn't a side of Dean Castiel had seen in a drunk state. He wasn't angry, just confused and couldn't reason time in his drunken state.

   "You should go to bed." Castiel said, standing up and walking around to help Dean up. He wrapped Dean's arm around his shoulders, lifting him to his feet and spinning them to go to the bedroom. Dean fell down on the bed, groaning. Cas managed to remove his shoes, though not sure why he was wearing them inside. Pulling the covers over Dean, Castiel leaned down and kissing him on the forehead. Dean smiled, but fell asleep in mere seconds. Castiel just shook his head as he closed the door behind him, walking over and tossing the beer down the sink and putting the bottle in the garbage. His eyes fell on the fridge, and he thought for a while. He hesitated, but then reached for the door and opened up the fridge. The contents were food and beer. So much beer. Castiel grabbed the box he kept a pillow and blanket it, leaving those on the couch and started emptying the fridge from the beer. Castiel took the box out of the house, closing the fridge behind him. In the garage, Castiel slid the box of beers under a workbench and moved a bike so it blocked the box and its contents from sight. Walking back in, Castiel locked the garage door and checked the front. He climbed in bed with Dean, pulling his arm around his waist and pressing his back against Dean's abdomen. Another of his favorite nights.

\- - -

   It was Saturday, so Castiel didn't have work. He slept in until 10, waking up to a presence of heat behind him. He turned slowly, wincing slightly as he was still sore. His eyes met Dean's.

   "I've been awake for a while," Dean whispered. "I didn't want to wake you up if I moved." He smiled, moving his head close to Cas's and nudging his nose with his own.

   Castiel smiled back, leaning up and kissing Dean's lips. They held together for a while, and Dean's arms around Cas's waist pulled him closer. The pain in his chest seemed like nothing now, and Castiel lost himself in the kiss. Dean was the one to pull away, and Cas opened his eyes to see Dean staring at him still, head propped up on his arm. Dean's fingers were gently curling and tapping at Castiel's back, and had snaked their way under his shirt. Dean's fingers traced Cas's spine, his fingertips exploring the bumps. "You know I love you?" Dean finally said, his eyes full of hope.

   "I know you do." Castiel said, his eyes flickering down to Dean's lips then back to his eyes. "I love you too." They weren't whispering, but their voices were low as if they were trying to not wake a baby while they talked. "New York, remember?" Castiel spoke up again after a while of silence and staring. Dean smiled and nodded.

   "I'll look for a job tomorrow." Dean assured Cas, planting a quick kiss on his nose before he swung his legs out of bed and stood up. Dean walked out of the room, leaving the door open and making his way to the kitchen. Castiel prepared himself, hearing the fridge door open, then objects moving. "Cas? Where's the beer?" Dean shouted, still moving objects aside as if it would reappear if he moved the right thing.

   "I, uh," Castiel said. "I got rid of it." He shouted back, which earned him the fridge door closing and Dean popping his head back through the door, half his body showing as his hand was against the door siding.

   "You did what?" Dean said, though Castiel was certain he heard him.

   "I got rid of it." Castiel said, and Dean walked towards him. "Um, I know you're mad," He said as Dean got nearer. He sat up, sliding away from the edge of the bed and away from Dean. "I just want to help, Dean." He pleaded. Castiel was still moving back, kicking the covers aside, but was stopped when Dean grabbed his wrists and dragged him up. Next he knew he was standing, and Dean was backing him against the bedroom wall. "Please don't-" Castiel said, Dean still holding his wrists against the wall. Castiel was interrupted when Dean kissed him, causing a wave of confused emotions to flood through Castiel's brain. When Dean pulled back, Castiel just stared at him with his mouth slightly open. He didn't know how to respond.

   "I'm not going to hurt you, Cas." Dean assured him, letting go of his wrists and moving his hands to embrace Castiel's face. He kissed him again, to which Castiel reciprocated this time. Dean bit lightly at his bottom lip, then moved his mouth down Cas's jaw line, stopping at his neck. Dean's hands had moved down to Castiel's arms, his grip not tight but still there.

   "Dean, I don't think..." Castiel started to say, but stopped when Dean gently nipped at his neck then ran his tongue over it to soothe the marks. Cas rewarded him with a moan, and Dean moved back up his neck to his mouth. "Okay. Okay." Castiel said, and Dean's mouth moved back slightly, hovering just an inch from Cas's as they breathed together. Dean's hands moved down his sides and waist, curling around the edge of Cas's shirt and pulling it up. Castiel's arms went up, allowing Dean to remove the shirt completely. Castiel pushed back at Dean, putting his hands on his chest and gently pushing him down so he landed on the bed. He then crawled on Dean, kissing him back now. Dean was propped up on his elbows, head tilted and one leg bent up against Cas's hip as they kissed. Castiel was holding himself up on one hand that was flat against the bed behind Dean, the other placed on Dean's chest still. Castiel pulled away, hungrily pulling Dean's shirt off. Cas's mouth found Dean's neck first, moving down his collar bone and chest. Castiel kissed as far as his ribs, then went back up to his lips. The two moaned as their lips met and tongues explored one another's mouth as though this was a new experience.

   Dean was gentle, aware that Castiel was still in some pain with his ribs. He placed his hands on Cas's arms, flipping them so he was over him. His hand ran down Cas's chest, landing over his ribs. He saw the wary look on Castiel's face, with some fear in it. Dean didn't smile, but instead lowered himself to kiss Castiel's ribs. He was light, barely putting pressure on them. Dean pulled off the rest of what Cas was wearing, then got himself fully undressed as well. Dean turned them again so he was sitting up on the bed and Castiel was straddled over him, sitting on his legs with his wrapped around Dean's waist. Dean's hands were around the side of Castiel's ribs, giving them as much attention as he could to help ease the pain. Castiel was leaning down kissing him, Dean's face now embraced in Castiel's hands.

   "Cas," Dean's voice was breathy and full of desire. "I want you." He said, and Castiel pulled away to smile.

   "Take me, then." Castiel said, and he laughed when Dean spun them very quickly so Cas was on his back again but fully on the bed. Dean leaned over him, kissing him passionately. Castiel's hand raised up, finding the nightstand drawer eventually and pulling it open. He pulled out a condom, shoving it against Dean's chest. He frantically placed it on, Castiel watching him admiringly. Before he knew it, Castiel felt Dean's body pressed against him, then as he moved more over him he felt Dean's tip press against him. Their lips locked, Castiel's moan was guttural and muffled when Dean pushed inside him. Castiel's legs wrapped up around Dean's lower back, and Dean began thrusting. He started out slow and tender, trying to mind Castiel's ribs as much as he could. "Don't go easy on me, Dean." Castiel said when he noticed Dean's eyes going down to his ribs with just about every thrust. Dean smiled nervously, picking up speed. Their moans became unanimous as Dean dropped the protective wall.

   Castiel's ribs were protesting, he could feel that, but he wanted the sex more than he cared about the pain. His arms were up over Dean's shoulders, nails digging into his bag as if to anchor him. Dean's head was hung, his face buried in Cas's neck and hot breath covering Castiel's skin there. Their sweating bodies slid against each other as Dean was thrusting faster. Castiel felt himself reaching climax first, and when Dean adjusted their position so he could reach deeper into him, Castiel felt him working vigorously at his G-spot. He came with a loud moan, Dean's abdomen and his own being painted in a sticky, white mess. Dean kept going, his tongue hanging from his mouth slightly as he panted. He climaxed finally, filling the condom up inside Castiel. After orgasm, Dean slowed to a halt and pulled out, collapsing on Castiel. Their moans suppressed to heavy breathing and swallowing the saliva that had collected in their mouths. The sudden weight of Dean on him caused a jolt of pain to go through him and his face scrunched up, body contracting as if to pull away from the source of pain.

   "Oh, sorry. Sorry." Dean said, lifting back up and placing a hand over Castiel's ribs as though he was touching the stomach of a pregnant woman.

   Castiel only smiled in response, grabbing Dean's head with both hands and bringing him down into a kiss. They kissed for a long time, not wanting to let go of the moment.

   Dean and Cas put on new clothes, throwing the pre-sex ones in their hamper. They joined each other in the living room then, Castiel grabbing a glass of water and taking the last Vicodin pill he had. Castiel placed the empty bottle in the cabinet, then went back to the couch and sat down. Dean had pulled out the box of movies, something they hadn't done in forever. "What should we watch?" He asked, not looking back at Cas as he fingered through the cases, reading the spines.

   "What do we have?" Castiel said, but his question was answered when Dean pulled out the disc Untouchables.

   "I love this movie," Dean said. Castiel just rolled his eyes. "We watched it like, at least 50 times when we first go married." Dean said, smiling at the disc before flicking it happily and opening it. He slid the disc into the player, turned on the TV and switched it to the right channel. Dean sat down next to Castiel, putting his arm over his shoulder and pulling him close. Castiel laid with his back against Dean, his head against his chest rising and falling with each breath. His eyes were looking at the screen, but he failed to retain any information through his thoughts. The day made Cas look up again, trying to hold onto the brittle idea that maybe Dean was back.

   The morning proved otherwise, when Castiel woke up to see Dean downing a bottle of Vodka. He forgot about Dean's array of liquor in the cabinet above the sink.

\- - -

   "GET OUT OF MY FACE!" Dean screamed, reeling his arm back and throwing the empty bottle at Castiel. It didn't hit him, but it might as well have since it shattered and a piece flew into Castiel's leg, then he stepped back into foolishly. His feet decorated with glass and blood, Castiel fell to the ground and grabbed his feet inhaling sharply. He ran his hand down his foot, knocking off most of the pieces then pulling what was left out. Finally, he grabbed the shard in his leg and pulled it out. Dean grabbed another empty bottle he had lying beside him and threw it at Castiel again, missing still. Cas crawled away, navigated around the couch to put it between them and then hugging the wall and getting into the bedroom. Castiel's vision was blurry, tears streaming as he grabbed his ribs again. Dean had landed a punch on them, but no serious damage was done.

   Once in the bedroom, Castiel heard Dean crash through the room and the couch slide a bit under his thrown weight. Then it was silent, all except for Castiel's own crying. He opened the closet in their bedroom, wiping the tears from his eyes with his sleeves. Blinking back more tears, Cas reached in and moved shoes aside to pull out a box of items he kept stored away. Putting it in his lap, Castiel took the lid off and put it aside. Tears trickled down his cheeks, and every once in a while he had to wipe his eyes to see what he was doing. Cas pulled out picture after picture, all portraying Dean and Castiel smiling, kissing, or laughing together. Cas only cried harder. His fingers were shaky as he flipped through the old photographs of their 'wedding' and honeymoon. Castiel's chest was heaving and jolting as he cried, abdomen feeling clenched. Throughout the box were reminders of the good days, something Castiel so dearly missed now. Dean's necklace that his little brother had made him when they were younger, coiled in the bottom.

   The pictures and objects drew harder sobbing, but Cas became silent as he spotted a yellowish, old piece of paper out of the corner of his eye before he fully put the lid on. Wiping the tears away again, Castiel reached for it and pulled out an old newspaper. The date at the top read March 27th, 1998. Seven months after they got 'married'. Castiel's teeth were clenched on the end of his sleeve, trying to hold back the tears so he could read. His eyes finally cleared enough to read the headline.

**MAN, WOMAN AND 14 YEAR OLD SON KILLED IN TRAGIC HOUSE FIRE**

   The tears came faster, remembering the day he came home to see Dean at his lowest point he had seen. He was absolutely wasted on the couch, an empty bottle of whiskey in one hand and the newspaper in the other, covered in tears. He'd been drinking ever since, and blamed himself for that since day one. Cas didn't really understand why he did, but every time Dean started crying and saying it was his fault, Castiel knew the best way to calm him was to assure him it wasn't and relax him to get him in bed. Castiel wasn't holding the newspaper anymore, it was dropped at his knees as his eyes were clenched shut, buried in his sleeves. His body suddenly became too much to hold up, and he fell to lean against the wall in a soaked mess of tears and a running nose. His sleeves were drenched the most. After over half an hour of crying, Castiel found the strength to put everything back in the box. Through a blurry vision, Cas shoved the box back in place and closed the closet door, crawling to his side of the bed and pushing his face to the pillow.

   The day didn't improve from there as Dean was blacked out on the couch, and Cas had worn himself out that he was asleep as well. The house was quiet then, as the two slept. Only the sounds of a refrigerator or the heat ducts clinking were heard.


	4. Office Space

   "I'm visiting my dad for Father's Day." Castiel said at dinner the next night after taking a sip of his water. Dean looked up from his meal.

   "Oh?" He asked, tapping his fork against his plate twice before tearing off a chunk of the chicken and eating it.

   "I haven't seen him in a while." Cas said, taking a bite of his own chicken. "I understand if you don't want to go." But Dean shook his head.

   "No, I do. I'll go."

   "Okay," Castiel said, he wasn't prepared for the conversation to go this way. "Do me a favor, though?" Dean nodded, locking eyes with Cas. "No drinking." Dean, to Castiel's surprise, agreed. "Thank you." The two finished dinner, and Dean washed their plates and glasses in the sink while Cas looked through the newspaper. "Did you find a job yet?"

   Dean didn't respond originally, and finished cleaning before turning around and sitting with Cas at the table. He put his hand at the top of the newspaper, and Cas let go. Placing the newspaper down, he placed his finger on the ad in the bottom corner.

   Castiel raised an eyebrow, reading it before he spoke. "Exterminator?" He saw Dean nod, and he smiled a bit, sort of laughing. "Really?"

   "Yeah." Dean's hand ran across the back of his neck and up through his hair, then reverse. "I would get calls for jobs and travel around, helping people get rid of pests taking over their home. I called the guy. I think his name was Gerard, or Jared. Something like that. He said to come to the offices Monday. So, tomorrow." Dean was excited again, like when he found the job at Bobby's. Castiel thought for a second. "Would you be okay with me traveling?" Castiel could've sworn his head cleared when he heard that. Dean being out of the house when he got home, not being able to drink since he was on the road. This was perfect.

   "Absolutely. We should take what we can get." Castiel smiled, covering Dean's hands with his. Dean grinned back, then lowered his eyes a bit staring at their hands. His thumbs moved out and up around Cas's hands, lightly moving in circles. The two sat like that for a while, not talking but just staring either at each other or their hands. Eventually, Castiel was the one to pull away. "Well," He said, standing up and leaving the paper behind so Dean could call the number. "I'm going to call my dad back then and say we're both coming down." He walked into the bedroom, grabbing his phone off the nightstand. He dialed his dad.

   "Hey, dad." Cas started, smiling and looking at the ground. "Yeah, yeah I'm coming down. Dean is coming with me." He laughed as his dad spoke.

   "That's great, I'll make sure to cook for all four of us then."

   "Four of us?" Castiel asked. He counted on his fingers, confused. His dad, Dean and himself. Three. "Who else will be there?"

   "Your aunt Amara." Oh god. His crazy aunt. "Before you change your mind, she's not bringing another boyfriend again. It's just her." That was a plus nonetheless.

   "Alright. Well, we'll see you both then in a few weeks." Castiel was about to hang up when he looked around the bedroom. Dean was at the kitchen table still, he hadn't heard him move yet. Probably still reading. "Oh, dad?" He said in a hushed voice. "Make sure there's no alcohol or anything in the house when we come over. I'm trying to help Dean quit."

   "Sure thing." His dad said, then they said their goodbyes and hung up. Castiel left the room and Dean was still sitting at the table. He walked over, grabbing Dean's hand and pulling him up to his feet. He held one of his hands in Dean's, then wrapped his arm around his waist and looked up at him. Dean didn't try to pull away, and put his own arm around Cas's waist, and locked his fingers around his. "We should do something tonight." Castiel said, smiling up at him and putting his head down so his forehead resting on the bridge of Dean's nose. He swayed them.

   "Like what?" Dean asked, moving his head up to kiss Castiel on the forehead. He moved his head back down so Cas's forehead was against his nose.

   Castiel was silent for a moment, and he closed his eyes as they swayed. What was there to do at night? The movie theater was open, and Cas reached over to pick up the newspaper. Finding the list of movies premiering at the local theater, he placed his finger on 'Office Space'. "We could go to the next viewing." He said, looking from the newspaper to Dean who had tilted his head to read.

   "Sure." Dean said, pulling Castiel into a quick kiss before going to the bedroom to change into fresh clothes. He came back out with his greenish t-shirt, an unzipped jacket and jeans. He slipped on his shoes, grabbing the keys to his car. Castiel was ready to go, grabbing his wallet and trench then leaving. He locked the door behind him, and Dean got into the driver's seat. Castiel plopped down in the passenger's, and they took a 20 minute drive to the Regal Southwind Stadium. Castiel bought the tickets, popcorn and drinks, then led the way to theater 4. Dean and Castiel sat by the middle, and found that they had come in during advertisements right before the movie. Sitting for half an hour talking and eating, Dean had moved the middle arms between their seats and Castiel slid over to cuddle with him, Dean's arm wrapping around his shoulder to hold him tight. Castiel's head rested on Dean's chest. The movie began.

   The movie was a comedy that was hour and half long, and Castiel's head bounced whenever Dean laughed. He often laughed along with him. About half an hour into the movie the popcorn was already gone, but the large drink they shared lasted past the movie. The two tiredly sat up after the movie, placing the seat arms back down. Cas grabbed the empty popcorn and Dean the drink, and they walked out. Cas shoved the bag into a trash can right outside the theater doors, and Dean walked to the fountains to refill the cup, pressing it against the tab beneath the picture of soda logos. Filling to the top with Mug root beer, they left and drove home.

   "That was a good movie." Dean laughed as they got into the car, handing the drink to Castiel to hold in his lap. They pulled out of the parking lot, then drove 20 minutes back. Possibly slower with the traffic leaving the theater.

   "Yes, very funny." Castiel smiled, holding the cup between his thighs. They talked about their favorite parts on the ride home.

   Pulling into their driveway, Castiel got out first, picking the cup up and walking around to the front door. He unlocked it, stepping inside. Cas walked back to the kitchen, putting the cup in the fridge then back to the coat rack and hanging it up. He put his wallet and keys in his trench pocket. Dean walked in then, shutting the door behind him and turning the lock. "I'm going to bed, I'm super tired." Dean said, putting a hand on Castiel's shoulder and leaning over to give him a peck on the lips. "Good night."

   Castiel watched Dean walk into the bedroom, and heard the bed shift when he fell over onto it. Cas didn't go to bed immediately, and stayed up making himself a light snack. When that was gone, and some of the root beer had been drunk alongside it, Castiel cleaned up then went to bed. Dean was already out, and Castiel changed into pajamas. He walked around to Dean's side by his feet, untying the boots he was wearing and working them off his feet. Placing them on the floor half tucked under the bed, Castiel crawled over Dean to his own side and slid under the covers. Dean was facing away from him, so he put his arm over Dean's waist and held his chest against Dean's back. Castiel fell asleep quickly.

\- - -

   "Welcome to New York!" A man said, casting his hand over to point out the train window to direct the passenger's eyes to the view of skyscrapers covering the horizon. Castiel grabbed Dean's jacket, shaking it slightly to get his attention from the pamphlet he had been reading.

   "Look!" Castiel said, Dean catching his eyes before Cas turned to face out the window and point.

   "Wow, look at that." Dean said, leaning over Castiel to get a better look. "It looks so cool."

   An array of silver, white, grey and glass decorated the skyline, reflecting lights everywhere. It was day now, and a blue sky clear of clouds provided a gorgeous backdrop to the buildings. 15 minutes went by, and the conductor stopped the train. They had stopped in front of the hotel all the passengers were staying at. Dean and Castiel were near the back of the line, and passengers were standing in a line to get out.

   Screeching of car wheels filled the air, causing the train to go silent. The car, as it got closer, was a large and bulky truck. The driver seemed to be freaking out, their brakes not working. The driver's arms raised above their face as if it would do anything, on a collision course with the train. The truck hit straight on, killing the driver, and enough force so that the train started tipping over. On the left side of the train was a somewhat steep hillside, and on the right the crashed truck. The train tipped, and tipped, until it started rolling down. Castiel closed his eyes, hands being clenched to Dean's jacket as Dean wrapped his arms around Cas. Both their eyes closed, and the passengers were thrown throughout the train as it rolled, some thrown out and flattened under the train.

   Castiel woke up around 3 A.M in a cold sweat, breathing heavily and shot up into sitting. The room was dark, lit only by the moon and streetlights that were outside the bedroom window. His breathing was loud, and Dean was half sitting up, his hand on Castiel's thigh. He didn't say anything, but Cas realized his hand had a fistful of Dean's shirt. He loosened his grip, catching his breath.

   "Are you okay?" Dean asked, now sitting up next to Cas moving his arm around his shoulders. Castiel swallowed, his breathing calming but heart rate going insane.

   "Just... A bad dream." Castiel said, looking down then over to Dean. He felt Dean's arm tighten around his shoulder. "I'm okay." He assured him, moving to lay back down. Dean moved with him, facing him this time and putting an arm over Cas's waist. Dean fell back asleep fairly quickly, but Castiel laid still for almost an hour before he fell asleep again.

\- - -

   7 A.M and Castiel and Dean were out of bed, getting dressed. Dean was starting his job as an exterminator and Castiel was returning to the law firm and Sears. They left together after having a breakfast of eggs and pancakes, sharing the root beer to finish it off and throwing the emptied cup out. Castiel grabbed his trench and bag, making sure he had everything, and Dean just had his phone and the newspaper which had directions to the office on it.

   Castiel left to the law firm, parking in his usual space and walking through the front door to sit at his desk. The lobby had three people waiting and reading magazines silently, all dressed up in suits as they waited for their attorneys. A man in a black suit walked to the counter, and Castiel looked up. He was dressed up, but Castiel new from experience he was not an adult in the slightest.

   "Cas, buddy," The man said, smiling mischievously. "Think you can put me through faster? I've been here for, like, two hours." He said, fingers tapping across the counter.

   Castiel sighed, putting the call he was on on hold. He put the phone down against his shoulder, speaker down, and leaned forward. "Gabriel," He said, putting his hand over Gabriel's quickly to stop the tapping. "You got in after me. I've only been here for 10 minutes. Please take a seat." Gabriel started to walk to sit back down, but turned on his heels. Castiel had started to move the phone back to his ear, but groaned when Gabriel walked back up.

   "It's just, I really need to see my lawyer."

   "And you will, Gabriel. Go take a seat. I will personally let you know when my boss is ready to see you." Gabriel did go sit down this time. Castiel raised the phone to his ear, and continued his call with a client.

   An hour and a half went by, and the lobby was empty except for Gabriel. He walked back up, leg restless as Castiel could tell from it shaking while he was sitting. He had pulled out a chocolate bar and took a bite, swallowed, then talked. _At least he didn't talk with food in his mouth_ , Castiel thought. "Cas, can you please get me a meeting?" He asked, taking another bite.

   "Did you make an appointment, Gabriel?" Castiel asked finally, glad he didn't have a call to put on hold this time.

   "No," Gabriel said, causing Castiel to look up and give him a _Seriously?_ face.

   "Gabriel, you have to call in and make an appointment if you want to see your attorney."

   "I mean, I didn't. The judge did." Castiel exhaled sharply, and flipped open the appointment notebook. Under a time slot was 'Loki, Gabriel - Attorney Raphael - Court Mandated'. Castiel nodded, dialing his boss.

   "Raphael," Castiel said, and got back a 'Yes?'. "I have Gabriel here for a meet-up. Yes. No, I know. No he didn't, the judge did. Yes I'm sure it's today. Yes. Okay, I'll send him down." Castiel hung up, and met Gabriel's eyes that were excited.

   "Go on down, Gabriel. He's ready to see you." Gabriel had finished his chocolate bar now, and threw the wrapper that was against the outer edge of the counter wall.

   "Thanks, man." Gabriel said, then walked down the hallway to Raphael's office.

   Castiel sighed, and looked over to the woman sitting next to him who was trying to hide her laughing. She met eyes with Castiel. "Sorry, he just is so weird."

   "I know." Castiel laughed back. It was lunch time now, so he reached under his desk to his bag and pulled out what he had packed. The woman did the same, having a yogurt with cereal herself. Castiel had a Tupperware of left-over chicken and a plastic fork shoved into the tub. They ate and chatted together. When Castiel put his lunch away, he looked up to see a blonde-haired man standing, bent over his desk with his face held in his hands, elbows holding him up on the counter. Castiel's eyes locked with him.

   "Hi, Cassy." He said. What he said every day he worked at the firm.

   "Your English accent doesn't change anything, Balthazar." Castiel rolled his eyes. "For the 800th time, I'm taken. Always will be." Balthazar wasn't phased, and never was.

   "Yeah, but it'll never be official. So..." He trailed off, winking at Castiel.

   "I will call security again." Castiel threatened, and Balthazar just laughed and started walking back to the staff room.

   "Oh, Cassy, you never fail to make me laugh." He called behind him, putting a hand up and wiggling his fingers as if he were waving even though his back was to Cas. He flung the staff room open, and it clicked shut behind him.

   "Not a word, Hester." Castiel said, and could tell she was holding back something to say. "Not. A. Word."

\- - -

   Dean had parked against the office building he managed to locate. He got out of his car, leaving the newspaper behind but grabbing his keys. Locking the car behind him, he buried the keys in his jacket pocket and walked around to the front door. He went to the front desk where and older woman sat. "Excuse me, ma'am." He said, grabbing her attention and she looked up at him. "I'm here for the exterminator job." Dean had been silent, trying to think of the name of the man he had set up the job with. She nodded, picking up her phone.

   "Some handsome boy is here for you." She said, straight faced. The man on the other end said something, Dean assumed along the lines of 'send him down' and she hung up. "Go down that wing and his office is the second on the left. Dean thanked her and followed her directions, and found the door she said was his office. He opened it up, and a tall but skinny man was sitting at his chair, legs kicked up over the desk.

   "Uh," Dean said, his head peeking in and knocking on the door. The man looked up, waving him in. "I'm Dean Winchester. I called you yesterday."

   "Yes yes yes, come on in." The man said, moving legs under the desk so Dean could sit at the chair that was on the other side of the desk facing him. "I'm Garth Ftizgerald. But Garth is just fine, obviously." He seemed nervous, but at the same time nervous wasn't the correct word either.

   Garth. That was what he had said. "Well, Garth," He said, clasping his hands in his lap. "This job would be really good for me. I've been going through some rough patches with my spouse financially," Dean said, his eyes trapping Garth's. 

   "Well, I'm sorry to hear that." Garth said. "Do you have any experience with extermination?" He asked. "Or just killing things in general? Other than people." He laughed. "I don't want to know about that."

   Dean laughed back. "No, nothing like that. I use to go hunting with my dad and little brother when I was younger." He said, leaning back in the chair to seem more comfortable. "That's about it."

   Garth was nodding, and rolled his chair to his left so he could open a drawer on his right. He brushed around the papers he had, and pulled out a slip. "Here's the form to apply for the job, if you could fill it out. When you're done I'll give you the papers so you can get a license to be a legal exterminator. The office to get those signed by my boss is right across the hall." Garth smiled, handing him the papers. Dean took 20 minutes to file through and sign and read the form, then handed it back to Garth with a smile. "Perfect." He said, looking over the papers. He handed it back to Dean, along with the form for a license. "Right across the hall." He reminded Dean.

   "Thank you." Dean responded, carrying both sets of papers out and knocking on the door across the hall.

   "Come in." A woman's voice shouted, and Dean opened the door and walked in. "Hi hun," She said, making a motion for Dean to sit at the seat across her. He did.

   "Here's the papers, I filled out the form in Garth's room." She nodded, taking the papers and looking through them. Dean sat quietly, playing with his fingers as he waited.

   "These look great." She smiled up at Dean, Scottish accent filling the room, then pulled the pen from a holder on her desk and began filling out the license. When she had finished, she flipped through to look for mistakes. It didn't seem there were any, because she clicked her pen closed and stood up. "I'll be right back to print out a tag and card for you, please wait here." Dean nodded and smiled, and she left out the door, heels clicking until she was out of range.

   It wasn't long before she returned and Dean turned to meet her eyes, and she walked back around her desk and sat down. "Okay." She said, reaching over her desk and handing the tag and card to Dean. He quickly reached forward and took them. "The tag goes on your shirt, and the card can just go in your wallet or pocket. It's to show authorities you're legally there on a job." She said, smiling at Dean again. A man walked into the room now, and Dean turned to see who it was. A shorter man walked in, and smiled at Dean. He half-smiled back, assuming it was someone waiting for their license. He would be proven wrong.

   The woman spoke up. "This is Mr. MacLeod" She said. "He'll be your partner on the job, and he can show you around. He's been doing this a while."

   "Quite a while." The man spoke up, showing he had an English accent. "I can take you back to our office and show you around." Dean stood up, shaking his hand and following him out the door. The door clicked shut behind them, and half way down the hallway he spoke again. "What's your name?"

   "Dean." He answered, looking around at the place while he followed the man.

   "Well, Dean, welcome to the job. You can call me Crowley." He said, opening a door to show Dean their office. It was a small area, one desk against the wall to the right and another against the wall straight ahead but tucked against the far left corner. "My desk is this one." He said, motioning to the one on the right. "I just used that for interns. But we stopped taking those a while ago, so I can clean it off for you to use." Crowley said as the walked into the room, then turned to Dean. "Honestly, we don't do much here. All the action is on the field." He said. "You'll get paid by Rowena- the woman you just talked to- and we get paid by the job." 

   Dean nodded, taking in all the information. "Lunch is an hour at noon." Crowley added in. Dean's eyes found the clock that was above the door. 9:40. "There's a vending machine by the door, one for food and another for drinks." Dean nodded again.

   At noon, Dean found his wallet from his back pocket. Castiel had given him two $20 to buy lunch, and Dean spent about $9 on food and $2 on a drink. Dean carried the stuff back to his office, sitting at his desk and eating. Crowley had his own lunch, drinking a Sprite and eating some sort of burrito. Dean, on the other hand, held about four different individually wrapped snacks at his desk and a can of Coke.

\- - -

   Castiel began packing his things when Gabriel came back out of the attorney's room. "Leaving, Cas?" He asked, hand moving through the pocket in his dress pants and pulling out a Kit Kit bar.

   "Yes, my shift is over." Castiel responded, not looking up from his bag as he put everything he needed back in it. 

   "I guess I'll see you around." Gabriel said, not moving.

   "Probably." Castiel responded, standing from his chair. "Good evening, Hester." He said, and she smiled and waved as he walked out. Gabriel walked beside him.

   "Thanks." Gabriel said, and Cas looked over to him.

   He wasn't quite sure how to respond. He decided against saying 'Anytime', as he didn't want to enthuse Gabriel to keeping showing up when he didn't have an appointment- something he did often. "Just doing my job." Is what he decided on, and Gabriel just nodded. "See ya." He said, turning and walking towards the employee parking lot. Gabriel turned the other way, going to his own car.

   Castiel sat down and shut the door, moving his bag to the passenger seat, and shifting out of park. He drove out of the lot, then got on the road and went to Sears. When he got to Sears, there was a crowd outside. People in tents or sleeping bags. Cas groaned audibly, which got him a few looks, and he tried to walk past them. One woman grabbed his arm.

   "You can't cut." She was scolding him already, and Castiel forcefully removed her hand from his arm. "We have been here for hours. No cutting." She continued, and another woman yelled 'Yeah!'

   Castiel hated campers, wondering why they didn't have anything better to do with their time than sit outside a store for hours. The line of people went into the store, and he could see his coworkers stressing as they ran about. "Ma'am I work here." He said, and the woman backed off with an 'Oh.' Castiel worked through the crowd, saying sorry and excuse me too many times to count. He finally broke free, meeting Meg in the clearing. "What is happening?" He asked, looking back at the crowd.

   "One of our brilliant suppliers decided they wanted to do an 80%-off-all-their-products day. It's been like this since last night when the ad went out." She seemed flustered and rushed. Cas didn't blame her. He went into the back and changed into his work outfit, clipping his tag onto the shirt. There was hardly room to move as he navigated the sea of screaming people. It was like a Black Friday, but in May. He knew this would be hell.

\- - -

   Dean left work at 6, and on his way home he stopped at a small grocery store. Grabbing a case of beer, Dean gave the cashier his driver's license and paid her. He left, and finished the trek home. Getting home around 6:30, Dean placed the case of beer in the fridge but pulled one out. He sat on the couch, turning the TV to the news.

    _The new cartoon on Nickelodeon named 'Spongebob Squarepants' that debuted May 1st has been a huge hit_ , one anchor said, a picture of a cartoon sponge with pants smiling at the camera appearing next to him. Dean took a drink, and they moved onto the to the weather after their report on the cartoon finished. This week will be showing the approach to summer, starting at 72 degrees Fahrenheit tomorrow and slightly cloudy. Wednesday will have a small chance of precipitation and drop to 68 degrees... Dean tuned out the words, taking another sip again. His thoughts started to travel, to what he remembered the night Castiel left to Megan's. Most of it was black, and his memory cut off when he heard the door open and saw Castiel walking towards him. Then he remembered Castiel crawling away. That was the last thing he remembered of that night, and his memory picked up again around 11:00 A.M when he woke up. Dean realized he had drank all of the beer, and stood up to get another. He placed the empty bottle on the counter, cracked a new one open, and returned to the couch. Dean dissolved into his thoughts again, but came back when the same anchor announced the hyped release date of Star Wars: Episode I - The Phantom Menace, two days down the road. "We should see that." Dean said to himself, emptying another bottle. He set the bottle on the coffee table in front of him, then stood up and grabbed another.

   Castiel came home at 7:12 to find Dean on his fifth bottle of beer. He sighed, hanging up his coat and bag. "Dean, stop with the beer." He said, voice patient. Dean was on the couch watching the news.

   "It helps." Dean said, patting the cushion next to him. "We should see this movie some time." He said after Castiel had sat, pointing to the screen. The anchor was still talking about the Star Wars movie. Castiel had nestled against Dean, legs bent so they were out to his side with his feet at the end of the couch.

   "Yes we should." Castiel said. There was silence for a while as Dean took a few more sips of his beer. Eventually, Castiel broke it. "So how was your first day of work?"

   Dean's arm was around Castiel's waist and he moved it up, stroking through Castiel's hair. "It was great." He said. "I got my licenses, and an office. And a partner, a small English man."

   Castiel's mind raced. Was Balthazar working as an exterminator? He'd lose his mind if Balthazar harassed Dean as well. "His name was Crowley." Whew.

   They sat on the couch, talking about their days for a long time. Around midnight, Castiel moved and stood up. "I'm going to bed, I'm exhausted after dealing with a mob." He laughed, running his hair back through his hair. Dean stood up next. 

   "Yeah, that's understandable." He said, wrapping his arms around Castiel's waist. He brought him into a kiss, holding him there for a while. The two became entranced in each other's lips, it felt like an hour had flown by when they parted. It had only been three minutes, Castiel decided when he glanced at the clock on the stove behind Dean. He smiled up at Dean, who smiled back and kissed him again quickly. Dean released him, and Castiel walked back to the bedroom and changed out of his clothes. He crawled into bed, cocooning in the covers. Dean walked in a minute or so later after Castiel listened to bottles clanging and his footsteps walking towards the garage door, then the sound of bottles crashing into the garbage bin, then the garage door closing and Dean walking towards the bedroom door. He shut it behind him, hitting the light switches on his way in and pulled his shirt off, then jeans. Castiel watched him, admiring his body. Dean then opened the closet and pulled a t-shirt over his head, then some sweatpants. He turned the bedroom lights off, then moved up behind Castiel, planting a kiss on his forehead and getting under the covers as well and cuddling up to Cas. They fell asleep not long after.


	5. These Are The Times

   "You're going to be late, Dean!" Castiel shouted towards the bedroom from the kitchen as he swept through the appliances, rushing in making himself and Dean two travel mugs of coffee with the right amounts of cream and sugar. Castiel's hands moved quickly as he put everything away when the coffee was done and made, and when he turned around with an exhausted exhale Dean was laughing from behind the island counter. Castiel plopped Dean's coffee in front of him, leaning forward on his forearms. He stretched his head out, making a puckering his lips. Dean smiled, leaning forward and locking their lips together.

   "I'll see you tonight." Dean said after he pulled back, grabbing his coffee and walking towards the door. As he swung it open, he used his foot to keep it in place as he turned around. "Wish me luck." He winked.

   "Good luck, have fun." Castiel laughed back, grabbing his own mug and quickly gathering up his bag and trench before following Dean out. They split to their own cars, got in, and Dean honked first, waving out his window. Castiel honked in response, and they drove separate ways. Probably waking the neighbors, but they didn't care.

   Castiel got to work, pulling into his designated spot and grabbing his bag and trench coat. He sat at the front desk where Hester was spooning yogurt into her mouth. She just smiled at him and continued eating. Cas placed his bag down by his feet after removing the notepad and setting that on his desk, then wrapped his trench around the back of the chair. It was silent for a while, Hester continued eating and the clientele in the waiting room made no sounds except for occasionally flipping a magazine page or a cough here and there. Heels broke the silence as a woman walked from a lawyer's office into the front room, then exited through the front doors. A man then stood and walked down the corridor to the office, the door gently clicking behind him as it closed.

   At lunch break, the silence was broken.

   "Cassy!" An English voice yelled, and Castiel sighed quite audibly. He looked up from his lunch and saw Balthazar leaning over his desk, one hand supporting his jaw and the other against the desk, pointer finger extended down and making circles on the desk. "We should go for coffee some time!" Cas glared. "Oh, c'mon Cassy." Balthazar's eyes got big and pleading.

   "I'm a married man, Balthazar." Castiel groaned.

   "Nonsense!" Was his rebuttal, and he slammed both hands down on the counter causing Cas to jump slightly. "Pleeeeease?" He tried again. "Even just in the break room? I'll make it worth your time." Balthazar had gotten uncomfortably close.

   "Balthazar, neither of us are interested in hearing this every time you work." Hester spoke up now, her laughs she had expressed on previous accounts faded. "I will call Human Resources." Balthazar responded by putting his hands up defensively, still smiling, and backing up from the desk. He walked back to the break room, and Castiel looked over to Hester when he was out of sight. She looked up and locked eyes, then rolled her own. "Someone had to." Hester smiled, grabbing the fast food cup she had and sipping through the straw, still looking up at Cas.

   Castiel laughed lightly. "Thank you." He said, turning away as his cell phone beside him rang and picking it up. "Dean?" He asked. "Yes, I'm at work. Yes. I don't know. No I can't just- fine, fine!" Castiel groaned after he hung up. "Can you cover for me?" Hester nodded, and Dean grabbed his things and left. He got in his car, and sped out of the parking lot to where Dean said he was. It was a long drive, about half an hour there. Castiel parked up next to the distinct Impala, getting out of the car and slamming it shut. Dean and another man- who he assumed was Crowley- were standing by the car waiting. Castiel had made a U-turn and parked up behind the Impala. He got out of the car, walking up to them. "What happened?"

   "I don't know, it just quit." Dean said, turning towards him. "But I don't have money to pay a tow." He said, running a hand up his neck and grinning shyly. Something he did when he thought he was asking for too much.

   Castiel sighed, pulling his wallet out. He handed Dean a $50.

   "Hello." A voice spoke up and Dean stepped aside a bit as Crowley put his hand forth to greet Castiel. "I'm Crowley, Dean's partner." Castiel smiled and shook his hand.

   "I'm Castiel." He said, putting his hand back to his side when the shake was done. It was awkward silence for a bit, and Castiel clicked his tongue before looking back up at Dean. "Well, good luck with your car. I'll see you at home." Castiel smiled, said goodbye to Crowley, then drove back to work.

   "Angelic, isn't he?" Crowley said sarcastically, nudging Dean slightly as he laughed. Dean just smiled and grabbed his phone, the $50 clenched tightly in his hand. He rang up the tow company, who said they'd send someone out and be there in 20. Dean thanked them, then hung up and leaned against his car, groaning.

   Crowley and Dean stood by the car for at least half an hour, waiting in the spring breeze. Ten minutes later, the tow truck pulled in front of the Impala. The man got out, walking around to the back of his truck and hooking up Dean's car. Dean thanked him, giving him his address and the money. The man tipped the cap on his head, getting back in the truck. Crowley reached forward to open the passenger seat. Dean grabbed his arm. "Nuh uh, you're in the back." He said, and Crowley sighed slightly. "My car." Dean smiled, and Crowley moved to the back seats. Dean hopped up into the front passenger seat, and they drove back to Dean's house. The tow truck dropped them off, unhooking his car, then left.

   "Make yourself at home, I have to figure out why my car stopped." Dean said, grabbing his keys out of his back pocket and unlocking the front door. Next, he unlocked his car. He popped the hood open. Leaning over the engine, Dean looked around for leaks, as per usual. He went around to the driver's seat, leaning in and finding the button to open the garage. Pressing it, he walked towards the garage as it slowly opened. He ducked inside, locating his tool box. He grabbed the digital voltmeter from one of the deeper drawers and carried it over, connecting the correct clamps on the correctly charged terminals of the battery. Positive on positive, negative on negative. The looked at the charge read out: 12.11. "Fuck." Dean muttered, removing the voltmeter and placing it back in his tool box. Dean closed the hood, then locked his car before walking inside. Crowley had opened a beer and was sitting on the couch. Dean grabbed his own beer and sat down on the opposite end of the couch. "Needs a new battery." He said, and Crowley nodded. "I'll have to buy one, I don't have a replacement on hand. Do you know anyone who can pick us up to go to the house?" Dean asked, taking a sip of his beer.

   "I could ask Rowena to send Garth down." Crowley offered, and Dean nodded. Crowley took out his cell. "Rowena, darling? Yes. We have a situation. Dean's car broke down," Crowley stopped when Rowena cut him off. "Yes, we're at his house. Yes. Thank you." Crowley said, then hung up. "Garth will be here shortly."

   Shortly it was, it was only about 25 minutes after that Garth showed up, honking to let them know. Dean and Crowley walked outside to see a red Ford Ranchero Squire with Garth smiling in the front seat, eagerly waving them in. Dean took the passenger seat, and Crowley took the back seats. "Thank you." Dean said as he strapped his seat belt over him. Garth smiled and nodded, backing out of the driveway and heading back to the offices. Pulling in by the front, the three men got out of the car and walked into the building. Garth led them down the hallway to his office, and walked around his desk grabbing a set of keys. He turned and tossed them to Crowley, who caught them.

   "Take the company truck today." He said, and Dean and Crowley nodded before turning and walking out. Crowley took the driver's seat, and Dean took the passenger seat. They drove out an hour west, heading to the house that reported a mouse infestation. They pulled into a gravel driveway of an old farmhouse, and glanced at each other before simultaneously getting out of the car and walking around the front, then up to the front door. Crowley knocked on the door, then put both hands in his coat pockets. Dean stood by, arms crossed loosely.

   A woman came to the screen door, then opened it and smiled. "Thank you for coming." She said, stepping to the side so the door was propped open behind her and the two could walk inside. She waved them to her couch, then put her hands together and smiled down at them. "Can I get you something to drink?" She asked.

   "Would you mind some beers?" Crowley asked, and she nodded and walked out to the kitchen. She returned with two beers, handing them to Dean and Crowley. "Thank you." They both said, twisting the caps off and taking sips. "So, you said you had a mouse problem?" Crowley spoke up, and she nodded lightly as she sat in the seat across from them.

   "I'm afraid so. I've set traps, but they seem to be too smart for them. I saw them on many occasions." The woman responded, hands clasped in her lap. "My brother tried to get them out, but it didn't seem to last long." She said, giving them another smile. "So, do you think your company could fix it?"

   Crowley laughed wholeheartedly, leaning forward and lowering his beer between his knees. "It is our job, ma'am." He said, and she smiled back before looking over towards Dean.

   "We will fix your mouse problem as quickly as we can." Dean said, finishing his beer and setting it on the coffee table on a coaster. He clasped his own hands between his legs, smiling.

   "Thank you." The woman said, standing up. Crowley and Dean stood with her, and shook her hand. "I'll show you where I believe they are holding up." She said, and led them to the basement stairs. They walked down as she flicked on the lights, and turned a corner into an unfinished room. There was a huge tear in the white plastic covering, and obvious chewing through the wood in the wall going down into the floor. Faint scattering could be heard when they were quiet enough. "Right there." The woman said, pointing at the hole as they stood a couple feet back.

   "Quite the job they've done on your wall." Crowley said, stepping closer and squatting down to examine it, his coat flaring out around his thighs. He raised a hand and tapped on the plastic. Loud clicking could be heard as mice ran around inside the wall. "Definitely a lot in there." He concluded.

   "I thought so." The woman replied. Crowley stood and stepped back from the mouse hole, and they followed the woman back upstairs. She led them to the front door. "I'm home on Thursday, all day, that would be best for me."

   "See you Thursday then." Crowley smiled. "Oh, and thank you for the beers." The woman smiled again, then watched them leave to their car before shutting the door behind her.

   Dean and Crowley walked out to the truck, hopping into the vehicle that had 'Pestfacers' painted in big letters on the side, beneath it a symbol of a cockroach with a big red cancel sign over it. Another hour drive passed as Crowley and Dean laughed and chatted, and Crowley pulled the truck back into the parking lot where it had been when they took it. It was closing time when they got back, and Dean rode back home in Crowley's car. When Crowley parked in his driveway, Dean unbuckled and opened the door, putting one leg out on the pavement before swinging his other around and stepping out. He turned, one hand holding the door open as he leaned back in. "Thanks for the ride, I owe ya." He said, waving before shutting the door and walked around the front of the car, jogging up to his front step. Dean took the keys from his pocket and unlocked the door. When he swung it open, Crowley started backing out and disappeared down the road.

   The house was quiet, and Dean looked at the time on the stove. 6:45 P.M. Cas would be home soon. Dean took a look towards the fridge, but shook his head and took his jacket off. He threw it on the couch arm as he walked back towards the bedroom, collapsing onto the bed. He passed out quickly.

   Castiel opened the front door, quietly putting his coat and bag away and locking the door behind him. He loosened his tie, then slipped it off his neck. Unbuttoning his shirt, Cas walked into his bedroom and changed into pajamas. Then, he did what he usually did every night. Pulling Dean's shoes off him and tucking them under the bed, he managed to slide the blankets out from under him and set them over him. He then walked around and crept into bed, slipping under the covers up against Dean. Dean opened an eye when Cas moved his arm and wrapped it around his waist, and Dean tightened his hold on Cas with a soft smile before falling back to sleep. Castiel's hands went up under the pillow, and the weight on his hips helped him to fall asleep.

\- - -

   Thursday came around fast, and Dean was back at the woman's house with Crowley and supplies to get rid of the mice. First, they blocked the hole in the basement the mice had chewed out with a patching compound that would dry into the wood after an hour or so. Next, they set up traps around the basement and in areas upstairs where food would lure any escaped mice. The traps were more complicated than the store bought ones, and it was harder to get around the pressure plate to grab the food.

   It took about three hours to fully set up the house with traps and other accessories to catch the mice, and Crowley was talking to the woman while Dean cleaned up their supplies in the bag.

   "Keep your food locked up safely, and clean up whatever crumbs or liquids you may spill. That should make it harder for the mice to find food and survive." The woman was nodding along as Crowley wrote supply brands on a small sheet for her to purchase if she needed to. He ripped it off and handed it to her, and she exchanged it with a check. "Call us if you need anything else." Crowley said, and walked out of the house with Dean back to the truck. They drove off to work, and sat in their offices for the remainder of the day.

   Dean waited outside after work hours, leaning against a wall by the parking lot. A few minutes passed, and Castiel finally pulled in and stopped right in front of him. Dean opened the door, sitting down and closing it behind him. He fastened his seat belt, then leaned over and kissed Cas on the forehead. "Thanks babe." He said, leaning back.

   "No problem." Castiel said, pressing on the gas and pulling into the road heading home. "So, when are you getting the new battery for your car?"

   "When I get paid at the end of the week. Uh, tomorrow." Dean replied, closing his eyes and sighing as though he just found comfort.

   Castiel nodded, and the rest of the ride home was silent. Cas pulled into the driveway, and woke Dean up by putting a hand on his thigh and lightly shaking his leg. "We're home." He said, and Dean slowly opened his eyes, lifting his head up and looking around. Castiel was out of the car first, and Dean followed not long after. Locking his car, Castiel led them into the house and unlocked the door. With a sigh, Castiel hung his trench and bag up then walked to the couch and sat down, legs spread and head back with his arms up over the back of the couch. Dean made a bee-line to the fridge, and the sound of glass lightly clinking caused Castiel to open his eyes slightly, but close them again. Dean joined Cas on the couch, cracking open the beer. He took a sip, then looked at Cas. Castiel had put a hand over the mouth of the bottle, and was pushing it away from his lips. Cas directed the bottle so it met the coffee table, and he held it down as his eyes locked with Dean's. Dean gave him a confused look, but Castiel moved one hand to Dean's shoulder. He then stood slightly and swung his leg over Dean, sitting on his lap and facing him. He put his hands around Dean's jaw, lightly rubbing his thumbs up and down. One thumb went over Dean's lips, feeling the dry but smooth skin. Dean's eyes looked up at Cas innocently, that look he got when he wanted sex. Castiel's head leaned down and in, pressing his lips against Dean's. They closed their eyes together, lips moving slowly and delicately. Dean's hands found Castiel's waist and he squeezed slightly, sliding down to Cas's waistline of his pants. He slid his thumbs inside, hands moving around to cup his ass. Castiel smiled into the kissing, nails lightly scraping over Dean's scruff.

   Dean stood up, holding Castiel up and around his waist. Cas's legs wrapped around him, and Dean carried them into their bedroom, kissing passionately now. Dean's were tightly holding Cas around his hips and back, hands flat against his lower back to hold him up and close. Dean slammed Castiel against the wall right next to the door, kicking the door shut. His head moved down Cas's chin, finding around his neck. Using the back and his hips to support Cas, he let his hands fall down to Cas's sides and clenched his shirt in his fists, working it up. Castiel's head was back against the wall now, and they were breathing heavily. Castiel raised his arms, letting Dean take his shirt off. When it was off, Castiel threw it to the side and kissed Dean on the lips again. Dean's lips worked back down, now going over Castiel's chest. He returned to his neck, leaving gentle bites and cooling the area with his tongue as he kissed over them. Castiel was moaning now, though lightly. Dean backed him off the wall, then pushed him down to the bed. He slid Castiel's pants down while Castiel worked Dean's shirt off. They kissed after Dean threw his own shirt aside, and Cas's hands went back to Dean's face as he moved down, kissing Cas's chest and down his abdomen. He got to Castiel's V-line, and his hands swept down Castiel's sides, lightly brushing his fingertips around Cas's hips and down his legs. One hand slid to the inside of a thigh, squeezing before finding Castiel's shaft. He put his lips to Cas's tip, eyes on his abdomen as his head lowered.

   Castiel's hands clenched onto the bed sheets, legs spreading and wrapping up around Dean's upper back. Cas moaned when Dean's mouth met his head, and went further down. Dean's tongue explored Cas, and one hand grabbed his base. His lips went down to meet against the inside of his hand, pressing against his thumb and pointer finger. His head moved up and down gently, hand moving with his head as he pumped Castiel. This drew moans from Castiel, and Dean moaned through his mouthful along with him. Castiel's hands moved down to find Dean's hair, taking fistfuls of his blond hair and moving his head up and down. Before Castiel started towards his breaking point, Dean lifted his head off him. His eyes flew up to lock on Cas's, and he crawled over him. His jeans were tented now, and Castiel's hands went down Dean's back and down around to help him out of his pants, using his legs to push them off. Dean stepped out of them, kicking them aside. He grabbed Castiel's calves, pushing them off him. He stepped back, rummaging through the nightstand drawer and finding a condom. He stretched it on, then leaned back over Cas. He teased him with his tip, pressing it against him, then they both moaned as he pushed inside Castiel. Cas's hands went to Dean's shoulders, nails digging into his skin. Dean's arms were bent slightly as he lowered himself, gently kissing Castiel's lips and drawing more moans from him. Dean began thrusting then, starting out slow and gaining speed as he went along. His head lowered by Castiel's shoulder, mouth hung open as he panted into Cas's shoulder and neck.

   Castiel came first, his orgasm noted by a loud gasp and moan, Dean's stomach getting coated. Dean came a few minutes after, filling the condom. He moaned as well, then stopped thrusting as Castiel was heavily breathing and making raspy moans. He moved his head up to meet Castiel's lips, and his chest was heaving against Castiel's. After a long make-out session, Dean pulled out and pulled the condom off, throwing it away. He came back around, helping Castiel sit up on the bed. Moving to walk around the bed, Castiel's grip on his hand tightened and Dean turned to look to him.

   "I love you." Castiel said with hopeful eyes, but his mouth didn't so much as twitch into a smile. He looked more worried than anything. Dean smiled though, and leaned back over Castiel, kissing him.

   "I love you too." Dean said, putting his hands around Cas's face as Cas's hands lightly pressed against his chest. Dean backed up then, and walked around. He only slid on a pair of boxers, as did Cas, and they crawled in bed together. The rain outside tapped against the plastic siding on the house as well as the window behind the headboard, creating a soothing rhythm that they fell asleep to.


	6. Sick Days

   On the road to Tulsa, Oklahoma, Castiel slept. The drive was roughly four hours down, and Dean pulled over close to Cas's dad's home to grab gas. He woke Castiel up when they got there, turning the music he was playing down to talk. Sleepily, Castiel got out of the Impala and walked with Dean up to the front door. Knocking on the thin metal beneath the screen, the door rattled and his dad showed up a couple minutes after, smiling with an apron on.

   "Come on in, guys." He said, flinging the door open behind him and holding it with his foot as he stepped aside to let them through. Castiel led Dean in through the front door, past the kitchen and around into the living room. His dad followed them into the living room. "Make yourselves at home." He smiled.

   Castiel hugged him. "Happy Father's Day." He said, squeezing him in his arms then stepping back. "What are you cooking?"

   "Pig roast." He answered, hands covered in two oven mitts that thudded lightly when the clapped them together. Dean was standing behind Castiel, and he worked around him and held his hand out.

   "Good to see you, Chuck." Dean said, shaking his hand and being brought into a hug. When they parted, Cas's dad walked back into the kitchen, pulling the pig from the oven. He set the tray on the stove, fanning a hand over in momentarily before taking the mitts off and stacking them on the counter. He pulled the apron off, then walked around to the couch and sat down with Dean and Cas.

   "So, how's it been up in Kansas? Anything new happen lately?" Chuck smiled.

   Cas nodded. "Dean got a new job as an exterminator."

   "An exterminator, really? That sounds exciting." Chuck said, looking to Dean. "How do you like it so far?"

   "It's really great, I'm enjoying it. I have a partner that is showing me the ropes, I'm not sure if we will remain partners the entire time though." Dean said, and he and Chuck conversed about his job. When silence started to creep its way into the talk, Dean spoke back up. "So, what are you up to these days?"

   "I've gotten into writing." Chuck said. "It takes a lot out of you, but I love doing it. Usually, my ideas come from dreams I have. So sometimes they're quite out there." He laughed, and Dean laughed with him. Castiel's head turned towards the screen door when it was opened, and his aunt walked in.

   "Hey guys!" She half-yelled to them, throwing her hands upwards and running over to Castiel. She brought his face into her cleavage, hugging him tightly and swinging her upper body slightly as she grasped him. When she let go, Castiel gasped for air a bit. Amara moved over to Dean, doing the same thing. When she pulled back from him, however, she kept her hands on his shoulders and looked down at him. "You two are still gorgeous young boys." She smiled, squeezing Dean's shoulders slightly before whipping around to meet Chuck who was now standing. "And YOU!" She exclaimed, hugging him as well. Luckily, he was able to stand before she smothered him with boob. "Happy Father's Day little brother." She said, kissing his cheek. "You've done good."

   The three men weren't able to speak after that, as she cut off when Chuck when to say thank you. "What're you making for dinner?"

   "Pig roast." Chuck replied quickly, then mentally congratulated himself for getting a word in.

   "Delicious." Amara clapped her hands together repeatedly and in a fast burst like a child. Chuck smiled back, then looked to Dean.

   "Would you like to see my office, where I work?" He said, giving him eyes that said 'this is our only escape'. Dean quickly stood and nodded, following Chuck through a doorway and hallway, then into a side room at the end. In the meantime, Castiel sat in the living room with Amara.

   "How's life, Castiel?" Amara asked, sitting down next to him. Her eyes were bright and lively, excited about nearly anything.

   "It's been good." Castiel replied, turning his body towards her. "Dean got a new job so we've been able to make more money the past month. Not much has changed at work for me." Castiel explained, smiling politely.

   "Cool, cool." Amara said, crossing her legs and leaning into her hand as it bent against the back of the couch.

   "Anything new with you?" Cas asked.

   "Naaah." Amara shrugged. "Nothing you want to hear about." She winked, and Castiel felt something in his stomach tell him to projectile vomit. He didn't though. "Besides that," She went on. "I've just been working at the station. Bringing in robbers, thieves, druggies, the usual. No big break-ins yet, though I'm crossing my fingers on one. I need a promotion." She laughed. Castiel nodded along as she spoke.

   In the back room, Chuck was showing Dean is work space. Or at least, pretending to. "Sorry about my sister." He said, shaking his head. "She never really did grow up." Dean just laughed, shaking his own head in response.

   "No need to apologize for her. She's lovely." But Chuck just responded with a pitiful smile.

   "We should go get dinner set up." He said, turning and leading Dean back to the kitchen. He grabbed a stack of four plates and set them on the table, Castiel standing up and helping Dean put out silverware. Amara got the glasses out.

   "Where's your stash, little brother?" She shouted out to the dining room from the kitchen.

   Chuck's eyes flickered to Castiel while Dean was looking down at the silverware he was finishing placing. "There isn't one." He called back out.

   "What?" Amara said, not in so much a way that she didn't hear him but in a way that hoped he hadn't said that.

   "I said there's none. Just grab the sparkling stuff." Chuck yelled, and Amara returned to the dining room with the carbonated grape juice. "Perfect." He said, and she set it in the center of the table.

   The three of them took their seats while Chuck walked to the kitchen, grabbing the mashed potatoes and green beans from the counter. He set them down, then made another trip to grab the pig. He placed that tray by the middle of the table next to the sparkling grape juice. Sitting down, he scooted his chair in. "Shall we say grace?" He asked, reaching one hand to his right to Amara and across the table to Castiel.

   Awkwardly, Castiel and Dean complied and looked at each other. Amara and Chuck hung their heads to pray, and they sat there quietly to listen.

   "Bless us, O Lord, and these, Thy gifts, which we are about to receive from Thy bounty. Through Christ, our Lord. Amen." Chuck said, and then they all released hands. "Dig in." Chuck said with a proud smile, and Dean scooped some of the potatoes onto his plate. They all filled their plates up with the dishes, and the dinner was mostly quiet as they ate. When their plates were cleared of food, they passed the sparkling juice around and pretended it was alcoholic in good faith.

   Nighttime approached, and Amara said goodnight before heading out to her car and going home, which was only a half hour drive from Chuck's. Dean and Castiel said their goodbyes next, and Dean took the wheel as Castiel slept the next four hours home. The streets were quiet most of the way home, with only one area of traffic that added a few minutes to the drive.

   Dean and Castiel arrived home around 10:40, tired as the dragged themselves to bed. They crashed on the bed together, falling asleep almost instantly.

\- - -

   It was Monday morning too quickly, and Castiel managed to get out of bed. He looked over to Dean, who was still fast asleep. Putting a hand on his forehead, Castiel felt his hand burn. "Ah shit." He muttered. "Dean, wake up." He said, putting a hand on his shoulder and shaking him. Dean opened his eyes, closed them, then opened them again to look up at Cas.

   "Wh... what?" He asked, rolling away from Castiel onto his back and raising his hands over his eyes, rubbing at them.

   "You're staying home today." Castiel said.

   "Why?" Dean asked, one eye closed tightly but the other open and looking up at Castiel.

   "You have a fever." Castiel said, standing up out of the bed and walking to the bathroom. He opened the medicine cabinet, pulling out a fever and cold medicine. "Take this." He said when he was standing back beside Dean, shoving the small plastic cup in his face. Dean took it back like a shot, handing the cup back to Castiel who cleaned it off in the bathroom sink and capped the medicine bottle back off. "Call in sick to work, I have to get going." Cas said, and Dean groaned as he reached his hand over to the stand beside him, grabbing his phone and dialed his boss. Castiel left the bedroom, brewing himself coffee and snapping the lid to his travel mug on. He was out the door quickly, locking it behind him.

   "Uuughh..." Dean groaned after he hung up, his head falling back to his pillow. He rolled back to his side, falling asleep again.

\- - -

   Two hours passed by, and Dean was startled awake. He sat up quickly, looking around the bedroom door. A bottle of whiskey was smashed against the ground, and the cabinet was open. He walked over to it, looking down in disappointment. "A perfectly good bottle." He shook his head and sighed, then reached into the cabinet under the sink and grabbing the handheld broom and dust pan. Sweeping the glass up and dumping it in the trash can, he moved to grab the tile polisher for the kitchen floor that the whiskey was spreading out on. Quickly using a heap of paper towels, he soaked up what he could and scrubbed off the rest. Once it was clean, Dean threw away the soaked mess and put the brush and dust pan away.

   He looked around sitting on the kitchen floor still and back against the cabinet. He felt sick, and overheated. Very overheated. He grabbed onto the counter, pulling himself up. Reaching to the refrigerator, Dean pulled open the freezer door and opened the drawer of ice at the top. He scooped out a handful, then grabbed some paper towels and wrapped the ice in a couple layers so he could feel the temperature but not the wetness. Dean held the makeshift ice pack against his forehead, leaning back against the counter and sliding down to sit.

   Time slipped by as Dean was sitting down, lost in his thoughts. "So tired." He whispered to himself, and found his feet. Walking over to the couch, Dean grabbed the remote and fell on his side to the couch. He clicked the power button to the TV, then flipped through the channels. He landed on ABC, which was showing an episode of Dr. Sexy M.D. Dean tossed the remote aside, still holding the ice to his head, and watched the episode until he fell asleep again.

   It was four when he woke up again, and he didn't feel as sick. The ice had melted all over the couch, and the cushion under him was soaked through. The paper towel had crumbled and dissolved. "Fuck fuck fuck." Dean mumbled, sitting up. The side of his face, as well as up into his hair, was cold and wet. Using a sleeve to wipe his face off, Dean stood up and pulled the cushion out. Luckily it was only water, so he just set it on the ground beneath the coffee table to dry. The TV had moved onto some other show, so Dean turned the whole set off. He walked back through the bedroom to the bathroom, grabbing the fever medicine from the cabinet above the sink. He took another shot of it, screwed the lid back on, and walked to the kitchen again. He opened the cabinet where the whiskey had fallen from and grabbed a bottle of brandy. He also grabbed leftover taco ingredients from the fridge and heated up what he needed to, assembling the taco on a plate and carrying that and the bottle of brandy to the dining table. He silently ate an early dinner, then downed half of the bottle of brandy. His taste for it ran slim, so he put it back on the shelf and grabbed a Corona Sol from the fridge, leveraging the cap off with the bottle opener on the wall. Taking a few swigs, he gasped at the refreshing taste and feeling. Seven o'clock rolled around and Dean had gone through about twelve beers. 24 minutes later, Castiel walked in to find scattered empty, and some slightly full, bottles and the sound of Dean showering.

   "Damn it." Castiel said, slamming the front door behind him. He grabbed a plastic bag from the collection under the sink and started brushing empty bottles in. Gathering up eleven, he carried the bag out to the trash. When he came back in, Dean was still showering, and Castiel took off his tie and changed into comfier clothes. "Dean!" He yelled when he heard the water turn off, then the door open. Dean was met by Castiel in the bathroom doorway, and he was glaring up at him. "This is ridiculous. Eleven beers?" He said, putting his arms across the doorway so Dean couldn't push past him without him grabbing on. Dean's hand was behind the wall that stood between the bathroom sink and bedroom, and he just smiled drunkenly. He moved his hand into sight of Castiel, shoving it towards him, an empty bottle in hand.

   "Twelve." Dean said, shoving a somewhat shocked Castiel back so he could walk past. Castiel merely stood still, clenching the bottle at his side and staring as Dean put on a clean t-shirt and jeans.

   "Fuck you." Castiel said after the silence, and Dean didn't respond with so much as a blink. Cas huffed, turning and walking out of the bedroom, slamming the door closed behind him. He threw the bottle at the wall, causing it to shatter and pieces of glass fall to a pile on the floor. "FUCK YOU DEAN!" He yelled back, but Dean didn't respond still. Castiel roughly grabbed the blanket and pillow from the box beside the couch and made the couch up for him to sleep on.

   Dean was in the bedroom, lying in bed, head hung over the side vomiting. He felt his stomach clamping up as he dry heaved after a while, nothing left to throw up. The bedroom carpet by his side of the bed was splattered in beer and a taco, and some brandy in there too. Dean was kept awake late into the night, but eventually fell asleep around 2 A.M.

\- - -

   "Oh, Jesus Christ." Castiel said as he walked around the bed to wake Dean up for work. He stopped short when he saw the vomit plastered to the floor. "Dean, damn it." He growled, turning on a dime and walking out of the room. He grabbed supplies to clean the carpet, dragging the trash and entire holder of paper towels with him. He scrubbed and cleaned, working at the mess for about 15 minutes. He grabbed Dean's phone and dialed his work number.

   "Yes, this is his husband. I'm afraid he won't be in work again today, he's still sick. Yes. Thank you." He said, then hung up and put the phone back on the nightstand. He took the garbage back out and replaced it, then slid the garbage up so if Dean leaned over to vomit the garbage would catch it.

   Castiel still had to go to work however so he got ready with coffee and his usual collection in his bag- notebook, phone, lunch. He drove to work, then sat at his front desk until 3 P.M.

   Sears was much more quiet than usual, which relieved Cas. He changed into his uniform in back, and Megan showed up a few minutes after he did. "How's it going?" She asked him after they got out of their changing rooms and met in the storage area to fold and organize.

   "Dean and I went to my dad's Sunday." Castiel said in a calm voice, but Megan could see by the way he was composing himself he was angry. "It was nice, we had dinner. Caught up with him and my aunt."

   Megan put a hand on Castiel's. "Stop. What's wrong?" She asked in a motherly tone.

   "Nothing." Castiel's voice was quiet, but very clearly upset. "Nothing." He repeated.

   "Castiel, don't lie to me."

   "It's just- I came home to him drinking again." Castiel said, stopping what he was doing as her hand was on his and turned to her. "Twelve beers, and who knows what else. I walked in this morning to wake him up and he had vomited everywhere. He was sick with a fever yesterday, and now again today."

   "Holy shit." Megan mustered.

   "I don't know what to do with him, Megan."

   Megan just shook her head, raising her hand to across her forehead. "What about rehab?"

   "We can't afford that." Cas responded, shaking his own head now.

   "What about a fun D.I.Y rehab?"

   Cas laughed. "How do you suppose I do that?"

   "It's easy. Just monitor him all the time, and remove the alcohol from the house."

   "I've done that before, he just buys more. I can't watch him all the time, I'm at work longer than he is." Cas pointed out, and Megan just shrugged.

   "I'm sure there has to be something you can do."

   When Castiel got home, Dean was still fast asleep on the bed. He hadn't vomited again, which was a good sign. That, or he just had nothing in him to vomit. "Dean?" Castiel's voice was a half-whisper, and he shook Dean's shoulder.

   "Hmm?" Dean hummed, opening his eyes slightly to see Castiel standing above him.

   "How are you feeling?"

   "What time..." Dean yawned. "...is it?"

   "Like, 7:20."

   "Morning?"

   Castiel shook his head.

   "I missed work?"

   "You were vomiting."

   "Oh."

   "Dean, you drank a lot last night. You can't do that anymore, you have a job now. We need that job."

   "I know, I'm sorry." Dean said, still half-asleep.

   "You're going tomorrow, okay?" Castiel asked pleadingly, and Dean nodded sleepily. "Good." Castiel said, then went and got himself leftovers for dinner. After eating, he set up the couch again and fell asleep on it, not wanting to sleep with someone who was vomiting- if he still was.

   Castiel woke up at some point during the night to loud, guttural sounds. "Damn it." He said, stretching his arms over his head and legs into the couch arm. He swung off the couch, and walked into the bedroom where Dean was leaning half off the bed, throwing up into the garbage. Castiel crawled into bed, eyes still adjusting to the lights, and sat behind Dean. He rubbed his hand in circles on his back as Dean vomited. This went on for about an hour longer, and Dean finally stopped.

   "I'm okay. I'm okay." He whispered, mostly to himself. His hand was at his abdomen, clenching the sore muscles. He leaned back onto his pillow, facing up, and staring at Cas. "Thank you." Dean whispered again, smiling and falling back asleep. Castiel only sighed, and dragged himself back to the couch to sleep.

   Dean was fine in the morning. He was up before Castiel, and woke him up with the sound of the coffee maker beeping as well as the scent of a traditional roast. He made them both coffee, and they headed out the door to work at 8:32 to do the daily grind again.


	7. Baby It's Cold Outside

   The snow outside was light and fluffy as it fell and stuck to the frozen ground. It was Christmas vacation off work, and Dean and Castiel were in their living room bundled up together in a blanket. Castiel was holding a mug of hot chocolate, the steam rising into his face. His head rested against Dean's shoulder, and he was hovering his nose over the cup to take in the smell. Pursing his lips, Castiel blew into the drink to cool the surface. It didn't do much, and his tongue tingled from the heat given off. Dean, on the other hand, was holding a whiskey glass full of eggnog. He sipped it quietly every now and then, eyes glazed over as he stared off into space, probably lost in thought. Castiel snuggled down more into Dean's warmth, and felt Dean's arm squeeze around his biceps a bit. The house was quiet at the most, with the heater kicking on and off every now and then as well as the sounds of the heating ducts clanking as they expanded. Castiel reached forward to grab the remote from the coffee table, turning on the TV set.

    _Venezuela still suffering from flash floods, the state's infrastructure collapsing and thousands found dead-_

   Click.

    _Spanish Civil Guard locates another van near Zaragoza with approximately sixteen-hundred pounds of explosives-_

   Click.

   ♫Oh hear the angel voices

     Oh night divine♫

   Soft Christmas music filled the room, and Castiel only sighed and turned the TV back off. Silence returned. The digital clock on the DVD player said it was 9:16 P.M. Castiel had just gotten off work two hours prior, and came home to Dean napping on the couch. It was December 23rd. The year had gone by so quickly now that he thought about it, despite the times he thought the days would never end. It had been eight months since Dean sent Castiel to the hospital for his ribs, and he had refused to go to the hospital on roughly 31 occasions over those months. Dean had injured his legs, arms, even his back at one point. Castiel pushed through, refusing to see a doctor. 'It wasn't that bad' he had told himself, and Megan, but he knew she didn't believe him.

   Dean grunted, moving a bit. Castiel sat up off Dean so he could move into a more comfortable position, then nestled back into him while balancing the hot chocolate so it didn't spill. He took another sip, and the tingling feeling returned to his tongue. Castiel drank the rest of it, the liquid chocolate leaving behind a sweet taste in his mouth. He set the empty mug down on the coffee table, then wrapped his arms around Dean's waist. He shut his eyes as Dean slowly finished his eggnog, leaning forward and setting the empty glass next to the mug. Dean put one arm around Castiel's shoulder, hugging him close and dozing off. Castiel fell asleep too.

\- - -

   Castiel woke up with a gasp as a loud crash was heard. It was early morning hours, about 6 A.M, and Dean was laughing. Cas could feel Dean's stomach jolting beneath his head, and Cas sat up and punched his shoulder. "What the hell was that?" He asked as Dean grinned at him.

   "They knocked down a tree at the house over." He was still smiling, obviously amused by the whole situation.

   "Oh." Castiel said, his head already turned toward the window that let him see a large truck and some men, a couple with chain saws, patrolling the yard next door. Castiel looked back at Dean, who was still smiling. "Don't laugh at me." Cas smiled back, punching Dean's shoulder again.

   "Ah!" Dean said, rubbing his shoulder. "Don't hit me!" He said in a fake scared scream, and Castiel laughed, playfully hitting him more. Cas crawled over him, Dean sinking down on his back so his head rested against the couch arm. Castiel was hovering over Dean, smiling down at him. He brushed his nose against Dean's, green puppy eyes beckoning him into a kiss. They held together, Dean's hands gently against Castiel's chest and Cas's arms holding him up over Dean. They kissed for what seemed like forever, neither of them wanting to stop. At some point, Castiel noticed, Dean's leg had bent so his knee was leaning against Cas's hip, as though helping to keep him held over him.

   When they stopped, Castiel only lifted a little when Dean's hands clenched onto his shirt to hold him still. A moment of eye communication and silence, and Dean pulled Cas back into a kiss. This continued for a little bit, Dean grinding his knee now into Castiel's inner thigh, hands still holding onto his shirt as though if he let go he'd fall. They didn't go farther than kissing, but the peace they felt made them not want to stop. Eventually they did, and Dean's let go of Cas's shirt. Castiel laid down, head against Dean's chest. Dean's arms went down around his neck. Castiel fell back asleep, but Dean remained awake. And still.

   8 A.M came around, and Dean had been lost in thought when the sound of a truck snapped him back to reality. The guys working on the trees next door were done as far as Dean could tell, and the snow on the ground reflected the sunlight painfully into Dean's eyes. He squinted, then moved his hand down to Castiel's shoulders. Lifting him slowly, Dean snaked out from under Castiel and managed to not wake him. Light steps towards the window, Dean closed the blinds. The room became quite a bit darker, so he walked to the light switch and flicked it on. Cas shifted, but didn't wake up. Dean's concentration went into his footsteps as he walked to the coffee table, grabbing the empty cups and taking them to the sink to wash. He hummed to himself as his hands worked at the cups, one holding a sponge. " _♫_ _Rising up to the challenge of our rival_   _♫_ " His voice was soft but still audible as he murmured while cleaning. He hit the faucet when he was done, cutting off the water, and set the cleaned cups on the drying rack beside the sink. Dean stepped to the fridge, pulling it open. " _♫_ _Stalks his prey in the night ♫_ " Dean was still singing to himself. He closed the fridge, standing still and thinking. He grabbed his keys out of his jacket pocket, gripping them tightly in his hands. He grabbed a sticky note and pen.

    _At the grocery store, be back soon._ Dean wrote, the bright red ink standing out against the small white paper. He put it on the coffee table by Cas, running a finger across the top so it stuck down. Flicking off the lights on his way out, Dean quietly shut the door behind him and locked it. He skipped down the stairs, then walked to his car. Dean backed out of the driveway, then sped off to find an open grocery store. He managed to find a smaller grocery store past the usual one they went to, and parked in the crowded parking lot. Dean felt himself up, making sure he had his wallet. He pulled it out, opening it. There was about $40 inside, which would be plenty. Removing the keys from the ignition and locking the car behind him, Dean walked in through the doors. He grabbed a basket, the located the butchery. There was a long line, so he grabbed a number and waited. 18. Dean looked up at the large display of what number they were serving; 6.

   "Dean?" A woman's voice said, and he turned to see who had called him. "Hey!" She smiled up at him. "Lisa, remember?" She said. Dean blinked, then grinned.

   "Hey!" He said, bringing her in for a hug. "How have you been? We haven't talked since-"

   "High school." Lisa nodded, giggling. "I've been good, I'm a mother now."

   "Wow, congratulations." Dean said, stepping forward with the line.

   "Yeah, thank you. What about you? Any kids?" She asked, holding her basket with both hands in front of her and swaying up on her toes and back down as she smiled up at Dean.

   "No, no. I'm uh," He said, trying to find the right words. "My boyfriend," He hated saying that word, it seemed so childish. "and I aren't looking into kids."

   "Oh." Lisa said. "I didn't know you were uh," She was trying to find a polite way to put it, and Dean laughed.

   "Gay? It's fine. Yeah, I know." He smiled, and she laughed nervously back.

   "That explains a lot." Lisa winked up at him, and a kid came running up behind her holding a case of bottled water that looked bigger than he did.

   "Mom! I found it." The kid said, clearly struggling to hold the water. His voice was high, and he couldn't of been more than 6 years old. He was trying to put it into the basket Lisa was holding, but couldn't get it high enough. Lisa just laughed and lowered the basket, squatting down to him.

   "Ben, this is Dean. He's an old friend from mommy's high school." She said, helping him put the water in. Ben's large eyes looked up at Dean, and Dean smiled and waved down at him.

   "Hi mister!" Ben squealed, shyly moving behind Lisa's leg when she stood up. Dean laughed, and Lisa put a hand on Ben's head.

   "He's shy, sorry." She excused her son, but Dean just shook his head.

   "No it's fine, my brother was the same way." Dean smiled, and read the expression on Lisa's face. It had gone somber. She opened her mouth to bring it up, but Dean had moved quickly into a squat to get to Ben's level as to avoid the discussion. "Hey, Ben," He said, holding out a fist. Ben was peeking around Lisa, and he reached a hand out and bumped a fist to Dean's. It was about a third the size of Dean's hand. "You have a great mother. You keep her safe, alright?" Ben giggled lightly, and Dean laughed back and stood up.

   Lisa laughed as well, letting the topic of Dean's brother go. "Well, we better get going." She said, hugging Dean again. "Nice seeing you again." She said, then took Ben's hand and led him away to find the rest of what they needed. The line had moved up quite a bit, and Dean was now up to order.

   "A pound of turkey." Dean said and watched as the employee nodded and weighed the meat, then wrapped it in a thin plastic and seal that in a bag. He stuck a sticker on it that had the information on it. "Yes, a pound of provolone." He ordered, and they did the same with that. "That's it, thank you." He said, smiled, then walked out of the line. He located the grain aisle, grabbing a loaf of white bread. Next the condiments, then he went to the check out line. That line was long as well, and it took about 20 minutes to get through it. Dean's total came out to $31.57, which he paid in cash and then walked out with plastic bags, leaving the grocery basket in a stack of others. Dean sat down in the Impala, turned it on, then drove home.

   The house was still dark when he got back, and Castiel wasn't on the couch. He closed the door quietly behind him, carrying the groceries to the kitchen counter. He removed them from the bags, throwing the bags under the sink where they kept them, and then making a sandwich. He ate it, and then walked into the bedroom. Castiel was grabbing clothes from a drawer, and had the shower running. "Did you want a sandwich? I got turkey." He said, peeking his head in.

   "Yeah, that sounds good." Castiel smiled, walking towards the bathroom and closing the door. Dean nodded and walked back to the kitchen, making another sandwich and setting it in the fridge for Castiel to grab later. He sat silently for about a minute on the couch, then took his jacket off and worked his shirt off. He got off the couch and walked back to the bedroom, now working his pants off. He removed everything, then opened the bathroom door. A blue shower curtain blocked Castiel from his sight and vise-versa, so he opened it and stepped into the hot water. Castiel jumped slightly, and Dean put his hands on Cas's waist. He buried his face in Cas's neck, kissing and sucking and teething. Castiel's head hung back and to the side, giving Dean more area to work with. One hand grabbed the soap bar and shoved it into Dean's hand, who accepted it and stepped back. Dean worked the bar across Castiel's shoulders, down his back and hips. Around his chest, gently scrubbing and working it around him. Castiel turned towards him, hands going to Dean's shoulders as Dean pushed him against the shower wall and kissed him passionately, their tongues intertwining. The thud of the soap dropping echoed through the shower, but was overthrown by the sounds of them sighing and moaning and breathing into one another. Dean's hands were soapy, rubbing down Castiel's side. Cas's hands were on his shoulders, and followed as Dean moved his mouth down Castiel's chest and abs. He fell to his knees, Castiel pressed against the shower wall with the water hitting Dean's back. Dean grabbed his shaft, drawing a gasp from Cas, and started pumping. His mouth worked as well, tongue exploring and hand moving in rhythm.

   Dean removed from him, now using his hand to move up and down Castiel's entire length. After a few pumps, he let his hand rest at Castiel's head and rubbed a thumb over the tip. He stood back up, pulling Castiel against him again. They locked lips, both closing their eyes. Dean's feet positioned on the grip mat that covered the shower floor, and cupped Castiel's ass in his hand, lifting him up. Castiel's arms were around Dean's neck, and Dean pushed him against the shower wall again, the water hitting his back and trickling down around his legs and arms. He moved so Castiel was positioned over him, and let Castiel fall a little, slightly leaning back. Castiel's back was pushed against the wall, Dean's hands squishing his ass as they moaned into one another's mouths.

   Castiel was the one to pull away. "I love you." He whispered, and Dean smiled in response, pecking his lips again.

   "I love you too." He whispered back, keeping Castiel propped up against the wall. The water was getting colder now as the hot water heater ran out. He let Cas get to his feet, then turned him around. Castiel's hands went to the shower wall, and Dean bent him over slightly. Dean's hands gripped Castiel's hips, then he pushed inside him. Castiel moaned out along with Dean, who was thrusting roughly at first before finding rhythm. He periodically increased speed, driven by the sound of Cas's moans and jumbled words that mixed Dean's name and random words to tell him to keep going. The water was colder on his back now, only encouraging Dean to pick up speed more. His own moaning collided with Castiel's creating a reverb of pleasure in the shower.

   "Ahhh!" Castiel screamed out as he climaxed, soon followed by Dean. The moans were replaced by heavy breathing and panting as Dean pulled out of Castiel, hands still gripped tight around his hips. The water was icy, and Dean reached back and turned the water off. The trickles eventually stopped, and they got out of the shower. They dried each other off in fluffy white towels, then got dressed in pajamas. They joined each other on the couch, grabbing many blankets to get warm again. It was snowing heavily again outside, the sky a dark grey, Dean noticed when he peeked out the window through the blinds.

   "I hate winter." He groaned, pulling away from the frosted glass and letting the blinds snap back together. He walked back to the couch, sitting down so Cas could curl up on him again.

\- - -

   December 25th, 1999 was shown in large white letters on the News channel. The camera was sweeping through Rockefeller Center, a huge evergreen decorated in the center. Trees were lightened up around it, but the tree standing over 70 feet tall was the main attraction. Dean and Castiel were sitting on the couch, each now holding hot chocolate as the winter temperatures tried to get into the house. Their heater had broken down, so their house was incredibly cold, so they bundled together under many layers of blankets to watch the celebration. Dean and Castiel didn't celebrate Christmas, much less buy each other gifts, but they enjoyed watching the Rockefeller Center celebration each year.

   A crowd of shivering adults and women holding children covered in every article of clothing fathomable stood beneath the tree, many people skating in the ice rink shown beside the tree.

   "It's so beautiful." Castiel sighed, arms wrapped around Dean trying to get as warm as they could. Both where neck high in blankets, only their heads pocking out to watch the TV.

   "It is." Dean agreed, moving his feet between Castiel's thighs. It was night news, the channel showing the both local and New York time at the top. There, it was about 8 P.M. In Kansas, it was 7 P.M. It was already dark outside, and Christmas lights were shining through the window from neighboring houses. Dean was the first to fall asleep, and Castiel remained on the couch with him until 10. Castiel moved the fortress of blankets off of them, shivering as the cold engulfed them. He put his hands on Dean, shaking him lightly.

   "Let's go to bed." Castiel said, voice low and gentle. Dean sleepily nodded, stretching. Castiel offered him his hand and pulled him to his feet, then gathered up a ball of blankets in his arms and carried them to the bedroom. He spread each towel out across the bed after Dean got under the covers, creating a layer of fabric about six inches thick. He crawled in then, snuggling up against Dean and they wrapped their arms around one another, Castiel's head buried into Dean's chest and the blankets up until they were just under his eyes.

\- - -

   Castiel was on skates in Rockefeller Center, the tree hanging over them, lights casting red and green colors down to dance across the ice that was carved by each movement. He and Dean were the only ones there, but he could hear voices as though there was a crowd. They held hands, skating in circles and swinging each other, laughing. Dean's hands slipped and he fell backwards, landing on his butt and sliding back. Castiel was laughing, but his vision was trippy and was zooming in and out, everything seemed to be distorted but still correct at the same time. Cas laughed hard enough to throw himself off balance, falling on his back. His gloved hands were resting on his stomach, but one was pulled up when Dean grabbed it, standing over him and pulling him to his feet. They continued skating, whirling around the ice rink through the intense colors shone down on them.

   They sat in the center of the rink now, skate blades pointing outwards as they sat crisscross. They held hands, Dean having a hat and earmuffs on and Castiel felt a hat on him and a scarf around his neck. Their arms were lightly swinging between them, and they were smiling as they stared into each other's eyes.

   "You're so beautiful." Castiel said, staring into Dean's intensely green eyes. Dean smiled shyly, but didn't break eye contact.

\- - -


	8. It's All Too Much

   The next hospital visit was incredibly scary. It was December 30th, a dark and snowy Thursday. Castiel came home tired from Sears after the rush due to post-holiday sales. He had thrown his trench coat on the rack, hanging the bag over it. His eyes regrettably looked to the kitchen to see empty glasses and bottles scattered everywhere, something that could incapacitate someone if they didn't have Dean's tolerance level. He was, however, stumbling about. And incredibly angry. Dean came crashing out of the bedroom when he heard the door shut behind Castiel, holding the box of photographs and items from the past that Castiel kept in case of a huge fight, to remember the good times. Dean was gripping the box in one hand, holding it down so pictures were falling out. The closet, Castiel saw behind him, was wide open and clothes were torn off the hangers.

   "WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?" Dean screamed, holding up pictures of them smiling and throwing them on the ground. They weren't what he was referring to, as Castiel next saw Dean's hand holding the newspaper up now, waving it furiously. Castiel hadn't told Dean he had kept it, or that he had a box in the closet full of things he had held onto. "I THREW THIS AWAY!" He was yelling still, walking towards Cas. Castiel had backed himself up against the front door, hands up defensively. Dean's mouth kept moving, but Castiel couldn't tell what he was trying to say. Dean threw the box aside, pictures and mementos scattering on the floor. Still screaming.

   "Dean please, I can-" Castiel started to say, but was interrupted to a strike at the gut, Dean's knuckles making harsh contact with his abdomen. His hands went up to it, leaning forward and coughing. Another hit. Another hit. Dean's hands went to Cas's shoulder, bringing him down and raising a knee to his gut again. After his knee knocked the wind out of Castiel, Dean threw him past him and turned around, sending a foot to his side. "Dean..." Castiel's voice was hushed and hoarse as he gasped for breath, shielding his body from Dean's foot. He managed to get away, Dean stumbling over and falling on his side. Castiel reached for a bottle, something- anything to defend himself with. He coughed again, feeling his brain begging for air as he started to be able to breathe again. When he grabbed the bottle, however, Dean's foot slammed down on the base of it, causing the bottom half to break off and leave a sharp and rigid edge. Castiel still held onto the neck of it, and Dean grabbed him again and picked him up to his feet. Dean struck his rib, and Castiel fell back against the counter Dean was holding him against. And another hit.

   Dean spun him around, throwing him down again. Then back up, and back to the front door. Castiel's grip on the neck of the top half of the bottle tightened, and he had the rigid end pointing out. In Dean's attempt to throw his body against Dean, the bottle tore through his shirt and into Dean's abdomen. He stopped, and the house went silent. Castiel didn't realize until he felt a warmth on his hand, and looked down to see blood trickling down the bottle, down his hand and wrist. Dean's shirt was staining quickly as the blood drenched the cotton, turning the green shirt he had on to a strange purple. Castiel had been staring at the blood, in complete shock, when Dean finally made a noise in response. He gasped, his grip on Cas's shirt loosening. He backed up, the glass remaining in his abdomen when he did since Castiel's grip was basically nothing. He looked down, slowly moving his hands down and around the neck of the bottle, then slowly pulled it out. Castiel remained against the door, his eyes hot and stinging as a warmth built up and clouded his vision then poured over his cheeks. His hand was soaked in Dean's blood, and Dean had dropped the bottle on the ground. One hand moved over the wound, trying to stop the bleeding, trying to shove the blood back in. It wouldn't stop, of course, but Castiel could see true fear in Dean's eyes.

   Castiel still didn't move. Not until Dean fell to his knees, causing Castiel to move forward and put his hands on Dean's shoulders. Castiel's face was covered in tears, face scrunched as he cried. Blood began pooling on the floor, and Castiel let Dean go, running to the kitchen. He grabbed three, or four, or five towels, frantically placing them over Dean's abdomen. He grabbed his phone, hands shaking as he sobbed.

   9-1-1. Castiel raised the phone to his ear, but his shaking made it hard to hear the operator. "I- I stabbed my husband." He was sobbing, and tried to hold it in as the woman spoke clearly and calmly.

   "Sir, are you safe?"

   "Please... I n-need an ambulance."

   "Sir, are you safe?" She repeated, more sternly.

   "Yes. P-please, please I need an ambulance. He ne-needs t-t-to go to the hospital."

   "How did he get stabbed?"

   "I had a br-broken bottle and was ho-holding it a-and he ran into i-it." Castiel's voice was shaky, and the tears kept coming.

   "I'm sending one right now, please stay on the line sir." Castiel nodded, as if she could see him, and he held the towels to Dean's wound.

   "Cas," Dean whispered, his hand resting on Castiel's arm. Castiel only cried harder. "I'm okay. I can't even feel it." He smiled, and Castiel looked down to see the blood still coming, covering the towels and the hand that Dean had on it as well as Castiel's hand that held the towels. "I'm okay." He said, still holding eye contact. But then the contact broke when Dean closed his eyes.

   "No, n-no Dean." Castiel sobbed out. He shook Dean's shoulder. No response. "Dean no, stay w-with me."

   "Sir, is he still alive?" Castiel grabbed Dean's wrist, putting his fingers to the inside of it.

   "Yes, yes he's still alive. He just p-passed out." Damn these tears, he could barely see again. He used his sleeve to wipe them away, but that didn't last long.

   About fifteen minutes later, sirens tore through the air and he saw the lights on the walls inside. The front door was open, and paramedics rushed inside. They pulled Castiel off Dean, moving him to the couch as he cried, stained in blood. They moved Dean to a stretcher, then carried him out to the ambulance.

   "Sir, what happened?" A paramedic asked, but Castiel didn't respond. He only cried harder, shaking more. After a couple more attempts with no results, the paramedic nodded. "Okay, come with us to the hospital. We need to get you looked at too." They took Castiel to the ambulance, lying him down in the bed next to Dean who they had hooked up to an oxygen mask and were replacing the towels with clean ones. Dean was strapped in, and the ambulance shook slightly when the driver got back in. The ambulance cut the forty minute drive to the hospital down by at least half, winding through the traffic. They took Dean out first, followed by Castiel, and rushed Dean into the OR. Castiel was taken to a regular patient room, and a doctor walked in to look him over.

   "Where is he?" Castiel said first. "Is h-he okay? Will he be-be okay?" His voice was still quivering.

   "He's in the operating room, they're patching him up." The doctor replied. She put a hand on Castiel's shoulder. "I need to examine you."

   Castiel nodded, and sat as still as he could manage. She took his shirt off, and ran a hand down his abdomen. "What are these bruises?" She asked, concern completely taking over her face. Castiel blinked away tears. 

   "Um." Castiel said, mind racing. Should he lie? Or tell the truth? "When he gets dr-drunk..." He trailed off, and the doctor looked at him with even sadder eyes. He couldn't continue, and more tears broke through and ran down his cheeks.

   The doctor nodded understandingly. "So this was self-defense, the stabbing?" She asked, and Castiel shook his head. "No?"

   "I- I don't know what to c-call it." Castiel said honestly. "I had g-grabbed the bottle for self-defense. But he-he stepped on it and broke i-it in half. Then I was hold-ding it and he ran against me and..." He broke down again, and the doctor rubbed her hand on his back.

   "How long have you and your husband been together?" She asked.

   "It'll be th-three years in August." Castiel sniffled, eyes covered by his palms.

   The doctor nodded when he looked up at her, her eyes sad and pitiful. "I'm going to go check on how your husband is doing, and I'll let you know okay?" She smiled at him, but he didn't even nod in response. "Okay." She whispered, walking out of the room. The door closed, clicking shut, and Castiel could hear talking right outside the door.

   Twenty minutes passed, Castiel waiting in the room. The crying had calmed and the doctor had brought him pain relievers and a glass of water, then left again. The door opened after the twenty minutes, and Castiel looked over expecting to see the doctor, any doctor, or a nurse. Instead, a larger man in a suit was walking in. He closed the door behind him. His face was straight, but still soft. Somehow.

   "Hello, Mr. Novak." He said, walking to Castiel and reaching a hand out to him. Castiel shook his hand, staring at him. Waiting. "My name is Zachariah, I'll be your attorney on this case." He said, and must have seen the look of confusion on Castiel's face. "You are Dean Winchester's partner, right?" Castiel nodded.

   "Oh, I'm not..." Castiel said, clearing his throat. "I'm not pressing charges." He said, and Zachariah now looked at him with confusion.

   "Mr. Novak, this is domestic abuse. I would highly recommend pressing charges, I can't imagine the emotional- and physical- trauma you must have." But Castiel nodded again.

   "No, no no no. I just want this to be over and take Dean home." His eyes were watering again.

   "I advise that you-"

   "NO!" Castiel shouted, causing Zachariah to stand back a bit with a more rigid stance. "No." Castiel said again, much quieter. "I don't want to take this to court. Just leave it be." Zachariah opened his mouth to speak, then smiled sadly at Castiel and nodded. He pulled a card out of his breast pocket and handed it to Castiel.

   "If you change your mind, call me." He said, putting a hand on Castiel's shoulder as he walked away, then letting it drift off and he left the room.

   Castiel's eyes were locked on the card he held. Zachariah was from his office, but must have worked at the other end of the building, he had never seen him before. Which was just fan-fucking-tastic, because that meant he had a chance of seeing him at work.

\- - -

   "Scalpel." The surgeon said, cutting the cloth away from Dean's stomach. He used rubbing alcohol to wear away at the cloth, trying to un-stick it from the wound. The blood was drying it to Dean's flesh, and had turned from a green to a sickly, dark purple. The surgeon had to remove some of Dean's skin to get the rest of the fabric off. He blotted more alcohol on the wound, dissolving the blood and fighting off germs so the wound wouldn't get infected. The nurses watched slowly, intensely focused on every move the doctor made.

   "Tweezers." He ordered, and received them quickly. He placed the tip of the tweezers into the wound, looking up to see a screen showing the wound zoomed in closely. He watched as he carefully searched through the gashes, fishing around for shards of glass to remove. There was three pieces he meticulously retrieved, placing the red-stained pieces on a tray.

   "Thread and needle." He said, and was handed them. A nurse had threaded the needle already, so he went to work at stitching the wounds closed after cleaning the dried blood out. He pulled Dean's skin shut with each pull, making sure to make it tight. "Scissors." The surgeon cut the thread, then knotted it against Dean's abdomen. Next, he wrapped a thick layer of gauze around Dean, tying that closed to make sure it stayed put.

   The operation took about twelve slow minutes, and Dean was then moved from the OR to a patient room to rest. The nurses moved him over to a bed, hooking up an oxygen mask and putting tubes into his wrist, then the morphine button in a loose fist.

\- - -

   Dean was held in the hospital for observation for a week. Castiel had been sent home after one more day at the hospital. The house was quiet and lonely. He had cleaned up the pictures, items and newspaper, placing the box back in the closet and closing it. Dean probably wouldn't remember anyways, considering that when all that went down he was completely wasted. Castiel took more pain relievers than he was told to until the bottle ran empty, which happened after two weeks of using them.

   December 31st, 1999 was displayed at the top of the screen. A crowd of drunk college students screamed again. The live time stamp displayed showed 11:58:23. Castiel took another pill with a glass of water, gritting his teeth as he leaned forward from the bruises. He did not complain though, he wasn't the one who had a glass bottle go through their abdomen. He watched the countdown, and watched the ball drop. Kissing, cheering, screaming when the clock showed 12:00:00, January 1st, 2000. But Castiel didn't react. It didn't feel right, it didn't feel like a year had gone by. Nothing felt different. In fact, it felt worse- much, much worse. He was holding the card the lawyer had given him ever since he got home, fighting himself on whether or not to take it to court.

   Castiel looked back up at the TV. 12:01:10. He decided then, and ripped the card in half. In half again. And again. He threw the pieces at the TV, but they barely made it away from him when they all caught the air and drifted lightly to the ground. The lack of a crash from the paper only angered Castiel, and he picked up the glass of water and threw it at the TV. The glass hit the cabinet beneath the screen, smashing. Water pooled outwards, soaking into the carpet. Castiel didn't move at all, staring at the TV. The sound of the news anchor speaking turned into just noise, and he couldn't make out the words.

   Dean came home on January 7th. He had a shirt on, which Castiel had left in his room that the doctor must have given to Dean. He didn't speak. Castiel didn't either, and they played a game for the next three days of ghost. They pretended each either didn't exist, making coffee and meals only for themselves. Deep down, Castiel was glad Dean hadn't pressed charges either. He could have easily put this all against Cas. Castiel knew, subconsciously, that Dean could never do that though. Despite the fights they had, the Dean that loved Castiel was still there. Castiel was sure of it.

\- - -

   It was when Castiel walked into the bedroom to find Dean crying that he knew it. They didn't exchange words, or looks, or touch. The feeling Castiel got, however, was happy. Dean didn't know he had come in, as he had done so silently since the door was already open. Dean was on the edge of the bed facing the closet, away from the door, crying quietly. It must have hurt though, because he was holding where the wound was with his hands and pressing against it.

   Cas stood and watched him cry for a couple minutes, not feeling anything. Not the pain of his bruises, not remorse or regret. Nothing. _He deserved this,_ Cas thought to himself. _After all he has done to me, he deserved this_. Castiel then caught himself in his thoughts, feeling a tear slip down his cheek. The thoughts scared him, scared him because he meant it. He walked back out of the room without making a noise, and went back to the couch.

\- - -

   Castiel woke up in the morning to go to work. He had been lucky the past few days that he still hadn't seen Zachariah. Castiel swung his legs off the couch and walked to the bedroom where Dean was asleep, tears dried to his face, and slowly worked the closet open. He got dressed, managing to not wake Dean up, and quickly slipped out of the house. He got in his car and drove to work.

   At the front desk, Hester was taking a call. She smiled and waved to Castiel, and he waved back before getting behind the desk and sitting down, tossing his back beneath it and letting the trench coat fall over the back of the chair. Balthazar hadn't come to him since Hester threatened to call HR on him, which was a relief to Cas. Castiel took multiple calls, stopping to eat lunch. He pulled out a sandwich, the one Dean had bought ingredients for and made him weeks ago. It had been wrapped up in the fridge, so it was still perfectly fine. He also had his coffee. Hester had her usual- vanilla yogurt, a cup of leftovers and her coffee. They ate, talking together.

   "I heard you were at the hospital again, what happened?" Hester asked, eyes lighting up. She was such a gossip, and apparently somebody else was too. Her interest in stories never ended.

   "Slipped in the shower." Castiel said, not wanting the rumors of domestic abuse to fly around the office. The last thing he needed was Zachariah getting a hold of that and hunting the source down only to find Castiel. "I'm okay though, just a bit bruised." Hester was nodding, and Cas could tell that she was running a list of names in her head of who to get back to with the details.

   At 3, Castiel packed his things up and said good night to Hester, walking out to the car. He drove to Sears, parking in the side lot and walking in. The warehouse was not very busy today which was a good sight since Castiel was quite tired and had been hoping for an easy day. It was turning out to work in his favor so far. Megan hugged him when he got out of the dressing room in his uniform, and she didn't let go. Castiel had to work her off of him, and when she stepped back her eyes were tearing up. "Can you tell me today?." She asked, and Castiel knew better than to protest again. She took him by his hand and dragged him into the back room to organize and have their privacy. Megan sat him down beside her, held up a finger and ran to grab some boxes of clothes people had given back after trying them on. She came back with a bunch, stacking them next to Castiel and running to get more. They ended up with a wall of boxes to work at while they talked.

   "The kitchen was a mess of bottles." Castiel started to explain as they folded. "All types- beer, whiskey, tequila. I don't know how Dean was still standing. He found a box of things I keep in the closet, and saw the newspaper."

   "Oh no." Megan responded, looking up from the shirt she was folding. She knew of the newspaper, and the fact that Dean didn't know Castiel had kept it around.

   "Yeah." Castiel sighed. "He came running at me. Threw punches, pushed me down, kicked me."

   Megan had stopped folding, her hands placed flat against the shirt. She was just staring at Castiel, wide eyed and pitiful.

   "I grabbed a bottle- a whiskey bottle I think. Anyways, I was holding the neck and I was gonna use it to hit him with, anything to stop him. But he stepped on it, and it broke in half. He threw me around, then back against the front door." As Castiel spoke, he was smiling nervously to try to keep himself from breaking down. It didn't work, as tears started rolling down his cheeks. "I uh," He sniffled, and Megan put a hand on his wrist. "I was holding the bottle still, somehow. And he threw himself against me. The, the uh, bottle went into him." Megan's grip got tighter, trying to get Castiel to look at her. He did, and he broke into tears, falling into her arms. "There was so much blood." He said, hands clenching her shirt as tears fell out. "So much blood." Megan's hand had moved to the back of Cas's head, holding it against her chest and the other rubbing Castiel's back.

   "You should stay with me tonight." Megan eventually suggested, and Castiel sat up. His eyes were red and watery, and he nodded. "Okay." She said, her voice low. She smiled at him, stroking the back of his head. "We'll go grab your things for an overnight bag, or however long you need to stay. Okay?" She said, and Cas nodded again, bringing her into a hug. The hug dragged out, and they broke apart when they heard their manager walking in. Castiel looked down, folding clothes so the manager couldn't see that he was crying. Megan smiled up at the woman. "Hey, we're just folding." She said.

   "Well, I need one of you out there to clean up a rack. Some kid tipped it over on accident."

   "I'll do it." Megan said, standing up. "Be right back." She said, and Castiel nodded keeping his head down. Megan walked out and cleaned up the mess. "It's okay, buddy." She said, kneeling down to the child's height and laughing. "You're not in trouble, mistakes happen." Her hand reached up and messed up his hair when she moved her hand across his head, and he raised a hand to wipe the tears from his eyes. "Here," Megan said, standing up and reaching her hand down. The mother stood up as well, and followed when Megan led the child to the check out desk. "Pick out a candy, anything." She said, and the kid grabbed a chocolate bar, clutching it close to his chest as he sniffled. "Mm, good choice!" Megan laughed, and the mother thanked her. The manager thanked her as well, and Megan walked back to Castiel.

   Cas had finished two more boxes, and was still folding when Megan returned. "So, have you two talked?" She asked.

   "No." He shook his head, looking back up at Megan. "We haven't talked in over a week."

   "Oh." Megan replied.

\- - -

   Megan followed Castiel home, and waited in the drive way as Castiel ran in to pack for the night. He ended up packing for three nights, just in case.

   "Where are you going?" Dean spoke to him for the first time since the fight, and Castiel jumped a bit forgetting that Dean was there. "Cas, where are you going?" He asked again, grabbing Castiel's wrist and spinning him around to face him.

   "I'm spending the night somewhere else." Castiel responded with an equal amount of saltiness, glaring up at Dean. "We need some time apart."

   Dean threw Cas's wrist down. "Fine."

   "Fine." Castiel said, still staring at Dean. He turned his back to him, finished packing, and pushed by him.

   "FINE!" Dean yelled back, slamming the bedroom door behind Castiel. Cas stopped in his tracks, sighed, then continued walking. He locked the front door behind him, then walked to Megan's car and sat in the passenger's seat. The drive was short, and Megan insisted on carrying the bag in for him. It was dark outside, and when Castiel walked into her house it was about 7:40.

   "I'll get you something to drink." Megan said, putting his bag down on the couch where he took a seat. Castiel nodded, and then reached into his bag once she left and pulled out the pain medication. He spilled three into his palm, then put the bottle away. Megan came back with a glass of water, and handed it to Castiel who took the pills back with it. "You can sleep where ever you like, I'll take the couch if you want a bed." She said, but Castiel shook his head abruptly.

   "No, I'll take the couch. I'll be fine."

   "You sure?"

   "Yes, I've been sleeping on my couch for the past week. I'm sure." Megan opened her mouth to protest, but decided against it and nodded.

   "I have some pasta in the fridge, do you want some?"

   "That sounds good." Castiel smiled, and she walked back to the kitchen. Castiel followed, sitting at her kitchen table and placing the glass of water in front of him. Megan heated the pasta up, then grabbed him and herself a bowl and filled them up.

   "Sauce and cheese?" She offered, and Castiel nodded. She heated up tomato sauce, then grabbed cheese out of the fridge and set it on the table. She set the bowl of sauce on the table as well, then took a seat across from Cas. Castiel poured sauce over the noodles, then sprinkles the cheese on, and mixed it a bit before eating it up. Megan ate as well, and they were quiet while they ate. When they were finished, Castiel helped Megan clean up by washing his bowl, his glass, and helping to wrap the leftovers up. Megan ran up her stairs and returned back down with sheets and pillows, pulling her couch out into a bed after moving furniture around.

   "Wow, I should get one of these." Castiel said, laughing slightly. "Mine doesn't pull out." Megan laughed as well, and set the mattress up.

   "If you need me I'll be upstairs. Wake me up for anything." Castiel nodded. "I mean anything. And if you're hungry, you can help yourself to whatever you can find."

   "Thank you, seriously. For everything." Castiel said, standing up and swallowing Megan in his arms. She hugged him back, squeezing tightly. When she backed up, Castiel held her biceps tightly. "You've been too good to me." He said, and she smiled up at him.

   "Oh, please." Megan said, pushing a pillow against his chest. He laughed and grabbed it, letting go of Megan. "You deserve an awesome friend like me."

   Castiel only laughed and she waved back to him, walking up stairs and shutting her bedroom door behind her. Castiel put the pillow on the mattress, and went around shutting off the lights downstairs. He crawled into bed, dozing off quickly.

\- - -

   He woke up around 3 AM. It was dark outside and raining hard, and he walked to the kitchen, filling a glass with water from the sink. A flash of lightning went off quite close, and he was staring out the window. The light illuminated a figure outside the window, and Castiel spit out his drink when he saw Dean, hands in fists, standing right outside the window. When the lightning strike disappeared, so did Dean. Castiel ran a hand over his face, shaking his head and taking another sip. He used a towel to clean up what he had spit out. He opened the fridge next, scanning around for anything to eat. Leftover pizza slices were stacked on a paper plate and covered in plastic wrap. He pulled the plate out and turned around.

   Dean was standing, drenched, right behind him. Castiel screamed, dropping the plate and backing against the fridge. He looked down to see Dean slide a knife out of his sleeve, water creating a lake beneath their feet, quickly spreading across the linoleum floor. He put a hand on Castiel's right shoulder, raising his right hand that held the knife. He raised it over his shoulder.

   "REMEMBER ME?!" Dean screamed in a sort of question and statement, then quickly plunged the knife into Castiel's heart.

\- - -

   Castiel sat up out of bed in a sweat, waking with a gasp. He looked around. It was early morning now, and he could see the gentle covering of snow outside through the kitchen windows. Light was seeping through the glass, slightly lighting up the house. Castiel ran his hands over his face, shaking slightly, and crashed back down onto the pillow. He fell back asleep.

   Megan woke Castiel up at 7:00, shaking his shoulders. "Castiel." She said. "Castiel, get up. Hey." She said, lightly smacking at his face now. He opened his eyes, staring up at her. "I have to drive you to work." She said, and Castiel nodded, getting out of bed. He left to change into work clothes, then walked back out. Megan drove him to work, dropping him off. "I'll be back at 2:30 to pick you up." She called out, and Castiel waved her off before walking inside to get to work.


	9. Painting a Picture

   Castiel stayed at Megan's for two days. He had put the couch back together and helped her move the furniture all back. "Are you sure you want to go home?" Megan asked, and Castiel nodded.

   "Yes, I want to talk to him." Cas explained, grabbing his packed back and following Megan out to her car. They pulled into his driveway and he took the keys out and walked to the front door. He went to unlock it but when he put pressure on it, the door swung open. He looked back at Megan and smiled, waving, and she back out of the driveway and drove off. Castiel walked into the house, shutting the door behind him. He exhaled deeply, then put his bags and trench aside. He opened the fridge, leaning in and grabbing the food Dean had bought to make himself a sandwich. It was Sunday, so he didn't have to go to work. Cas turned around, and Dean was standing behind him. He dropped the food and jumped back causing the fridge to rock a bit. His eyes immediately darted down to Dean's hands, but no knife revealed itself. Instead, Dean raised his hands and embraced Castiel's face in them gently.

   "I. Love. You." Dean said, his voice a whisper as he looked down in Castiel's eyes. His eyes were red from tears and rubbing, irritated by salt and cloth.

   Castiel said nothing, and just shook his head. Dean dropped his hands, a look of hurt and defeat on his face. Castiel bent down and picked the food up off the ground, and silently walked past Dean. He put together a sandwich and Dean walked away back to the bedroom. While Castiel was eating at the counter, Dean returned back to the kitchen with the box. Castiel reacted by backing up, putting distance between Dean and himself. Dean didn't yell, didn't scream, and stopped when he saw Castiel assume a defensive position. No more words were shared, and Dean started walking towards Castiel again. He was close, leaving only a couple inches between them. He raised the hand holding the box and put it on the counter behind Cas, his face showing no emotion as he stared into Castiel's eyes. He said nothing still, and turned and walked away.

   When the bedroom door shut lightly, Castiel realized he had been holding his breath. He sighed out, then turned and put his hands on the box. He pulled it to him, looking inside. The pictures, objects, even the newspaper were still inside and intact. What was new, though, was black letters across the back of the pictures. Cas pulled them out and placed them on the counter, letters up. K-Y-R-W-N-O-E. What? He rearranged them, and it took about two minutes before he spelled out 'N-E-W Y-O-R-K' in front of him. His eyebrow raised up in confusion.

   "I've been saving up." A voice came from behind Castiel and he turned around, mouth open slightly. "We should be able to have enough by fall next year to buy a place." Dean slightly smiled, not sure if he should be, not sure how Castiel would react. Castiel said nothing, didn't smile or move. He just breathed. Dean got worried, and his face took the look of a disciplined child. "Um, or not. We can stay here." Dean said, standing up straighter. Cas still didn't speak, but his eyes followed Dean's. Dean stopped talking as well, and stood still.

   Suddenly, Dean wasn't intimidating. Castiel was staring at Dean, but his mind was elsewhere. Roughly five minutes of silence and staring passed, then Castiel flung himself forward, arms wrapping up around Dean's neck. He hugged him close, disregarding Dean's wince and groan. Fuck his pain. Castiel held him tighter, his own bruises protesting in a sore pain. It was nothing to match the pain that shot through Dean's body, but Dean didn't push away or try to back away in the slightest. His hand didn't even raise up to put pressure on the stitches, he just grabbed Castiel back and picked him off the ground so Castiel's toes were just above the ground. He spun him around, laughing, and Castiel leaned his head down to Dean's in a kiss. "Fall?" He said when Dean put him back to his feet but still held him close. Dean nodded and Castiel smiled in response. "I do." He said, and Dean laughed again with him. They both smiled into another kiss, their breath becoming one. The pain that went through both of their bodies, Castiel thought, became a sort of poetic beauty. Each had beaten each other up intensely, and were both accepting the pain as they held each other, their weights causing strains on the bruises and wounds as they pressed against one another.

   Eventually they released one another. They joined each other in bed, the first time Castiel slept in their bed in over a week, and fell asleep in each other's arms, the wind outside lulling them to sleep.

\- - -

   Castiel had gotten more pain killers at the local pharmacy over the counter as he had run out, and he took three when he got home with a glass of water. As strictly told, Dean abstained from any alcohol while his wounds were healing. The lawyers were off their back now, letting it slip from their jurisdiction. It had been a month since Dean had proposed moving to New York the next year, and his injuries had mostly healed. He'd visited the doctor to get the stitches pulled out which was a quick visit, and Castiel gave him pain medication with a glass of water when they had gotten home. Dean fell asleep on the couch that night, and Dean left him there and took the bed to himself.

   8:30 A.M and they both were out the door after making their coffee, heading off to work.

\- - -

   "Squirrel!" Crowley shouted down the hallway, a new nickname he had adopted for Dean. He'd gotten it because Dean had screamed when a squirrel ran out of a hole in a wall on a job, and Crowley was laughing way harder than Dean had been. "Where have you been?" He asked, putting a skip in his step to catch up, walking beside Dean.

   "Oh, I had to go to the hospital my boyfriend stabbed me." Dean laughed, and Crowley looked up at him in disbelief. "Oh, you better believe it." He said, sipping his coffee. "It was my fault though, he was just defending himself." Dean explained, and he had rendered Crowley silent. They were at their office door when Dean laughed, playfully hitting Crowley's chest. "We got a job today?" Dean asked, opening the door and walking to his desk.

   "E... Um, yes. Yes we do." Crowley responded, grabbing the list of set up meetings. "An Ellen Harvelle." He said.

   "Oh, I know her. I used to work for her husband." Dean said, turning to face Crowley.

   "It's at eleven today, so we have time." Crowley said, dropping the paper back so it hung down on the clipboard that was on the wall. "We can just relax until then." He smiled at Dean, sipping his coffee.

   "Awesome." Dean smiled back, then turned and sat at his desk. He turned the computer on and started browsing for apartments in New York City.

   "Planning on moving?" Crowley asked, and he was now standing behind Dean and leaning down, resting on the back of his chair.

   "Not for a while, but eventually. Cas has always wanted to go, so I've been saving to move there instead of just a vacation."

   "How sweet." Crowley said, sipping his coffee again.

   At 10:13 Crowley stood up from his desk, Dean still browsing through apartments. "Dean." He said, and Dean shut his computer down. "Let's roll out." Dean stood up, grabbing his empty coffee mug and followed Crowley out. He stopped in the break room, refilling the coffee, then walking out to the company truck. Crowley drove, as usual, and Dean leaned out the window of the passenger seat as the drove, drinking his coffee. He reached to the radio and turned it, flipping through channels until a rock one came on. He sang lazily along, smiling and laughing when Crowley groaned. They pulled into the house's driveway, gravel crackling beneath the truck's wheels as Crowley slowed to a halt. He turned the car off, pulling the keys out and sticking them in the pocket of his black coat. They hopped out of the truck, causing it to rock when they slammed the doors. Crowley was the one to knock on the door, and Ellen appeared at the door. She opened it, welcoming them in.

   "Please, come in." She smiled, and they walked in past her. She shut the door behind them, following them into the living room. "Can I offer you anything?" Ellen asked.

   "Beers would be nice." Dean smiled, and Ellen nodded.

   "JO!" She screamed, and a young blonde emerged from the kitchen, quietly looking over to them. "Get these two gentlemen some beer, please." Ellen said without looking behind her, and Dean saw Jo smiled at him.

   "Yeah." She said, walking to the fridge. Dean heard her open it, the clinking of two beer bottles together, and she brought it out to them. She handed one to Crowley, who smiled at her in thanks, and then passed the other to Dean. Jo held onto the bottle a bit, holding Dean's gaze in hers. She smiled up at him flirtatiously, and Dean awkwardly smiled back.

   "I wouldn't try that, love." Crowley winked, and Jo looked to him. "You're not his type."

   "Oh." Jo said, looking back at Dean and letting go of the bottle. "Sorry." She smiled nervously now, then turned on her heels and walked away.

   Ellen rolled her eyes and sighed. "Thank you dear." She called out, and Jo held out a peace sign before disappearing around the corner in the kitchen again. Dean and Crowley turned their attention back to Ellen and waited for her to describe the problem. "Follow me." Ellen said, and the two men promptly walked after her up the stairs. She led them into her bedroom, and she pointed at the ceiling. There was a huge hole eaten away at the wood, revealing planks of wood and plastic.

   "Termites?" Crowley asked, staring up at the ceiling.

   "We think so." Ellen said, both hands on her hips and staring up with them. "It started a while ago, my husband and I haven't slept in this room since. We didn't know what it was, he tried patching it up after spraying Raid through it but that, obviously, didn't hold up." Ellen explained. Dean was listening, looking up and walking so he was closer to it, but wary so he didn't walk where something could fall on him. "Jo insisted we called exterminators, and we finally snapped. I guess she's the brains of the household." Ellen laughed, crossing her hands against he chest now.

   "Ew." Dean said, and Crowley and Ellen looked over to see him holding a piece of chewed up wood. Crowley shook his head as though Dean had been a child that grabbed the wood. Dean continued studying the piece, flipping it around. Dead termites were on it, he realized, and he quickly dropped the wood and stood back, rubbing his hands together. His eyes met Crowley's, and they were giving him the same glare a mother gives a child that is misbehaving at a guest's house. Dean lowered his eyes.

   Crowley held up his beer, raising it and pointing up at the hole. "Are there more around the house, or is this the only place?"

   "No, this is it. We've gone through the entire house- attic, basement, everything- and there was nothing else." Ellen explained, making small motions with her hand while keeping her arms crossed.

   "Strange." Crowley noted.

   "How so?"

   "Usually termites are in corners of houses, eating away from the edge to the center. But this starts in the center of your ceiling nonetheless."

   Ellen didn't respond, she didn't have an answer to that. The front door opened downstairs, and Ellen turned towards the bedroom door.

   "I'm home." A gruff voice shouted. They heard Jo say hi, and Ellen spoke next.

   "Up here, Bobby." She shouted back. "I'm showing the exterminators the termites."

   "Alright." He responded, and Dean got a feeling in his gut that told him to leave right now to avoid interaction with his old boss. He held still though, putting a face on. Bobby walked up the stairs, and stopped in the doorway when his eyes met Deans.

   "Balls." He muttered, walking forward and standing next to Ellen.

   Ellen leaned away from him slightly, brows creasing in confusion. "Something wrong, honey?" She asked.

   "This is Dean." Bobby said, raising a hand and gesturing towards Dean. Dean was wearing a worried smile, wondering what Bobby had said about him.

   "Oh." Ellen said, but she didn't show any sign of unhappiness to see him. It was silent for a few seconds. "So, when can you two come back to fix it up? Our schedule is always open, I'm a stay-at-home." Ellen said, leading the three men out of the bedroom.

   "We can come back Monday next week." Dean said, rubbing his hands together again since it felt like termites were crawling over him. Crowley nodded.

   "That sounds good." Ellen said, and Bobby idly stood beside her going along with whatever they decided on. Dean and Crowley thanked Ellen for the drinks, then walked back out to the truck.

   "Awkward." Crowley said when they had both sat down, then turned the key to start the truck up.

   "Yeah." Dean said, resting his head in his hand and leaning against the door. He dozed off as they drove. Crowley woke him up when they got to the offices, and the spent the rest of the day in the offices.

\- - -

   Castiel left work, leaning into his car. It rocked beneath his weight, but slowed and stopped after he shut the door. He hadn't told anybody about the New York plans, especially since that would be in over a year. He especially didn't mention it to Megan, knowing very well the look she would give him. Her eyes would be sad as she tried to congratulate him but the words wouldn't come out quite like that. She's have a had on his shoulder, mouth smiling but head shaking ever so slightly in disappointment. Megan didn't understand, she didn't know the Dean that Cas did.

   "New York." Castiel said to himself quietly, turning the key in the ignition and listening to his engine come to life. He smiled.


	10. The Last Wine

   Sunday, February 6th, 2000 read at the top of the newspaper Castiel was holding. The TV was playing in the other room on the news channel, but nothing interesting was happening. Castiel's feet were up on the chair beside him and he was facing the kitchen, brows scrunched as he read the small print before him. Dean was standing at the kitchen counter making coffee, and he turned his head to the side slightly to look behind him to Cas.

   "Anything fun in the paper?" He asked, and Castiel shook his head before looking up.

   "No, not really." He said, shifting in his seat slightly. He was holding a pencil in one hand. "What's a seven letter word meaning 'a pipe supplying air to tires'?" He asked, dragging out the words as he tried to think while he spoke. Dean had turned around by now with two coffee cups, one in each hand, and sat down in the chair that sat at the head of the table after he saw Cas's feet on the chair he originally went for. He slid Castiel's coffee towards him.

   "Airline." Dean said, and Castiel smiled.

   "Your knowledge of cars comes in handy." Castiel said.

   "Ah, yes. I'm so glad I taught myself about cars so I could do a word puzzle for you." Dean said, voice riddled with sarcasm. He smiled as he lifted his cup to his mouth, taking a sip. Castiel had shot a glance at him that said 'bite me' and Dean thought about it momentarily. Another sip of coffee, then he set it down. Dean closed himself off from the world as Castiel quietly worked more at his crossword. His senses felt as though they had halted as he lost himself in thought. His brain went back to the grocery store, seeing Lisa. And Ben. How adorable the kid was, and how great of a mother Lisa was from what he had seen. Dean was in a trance for a while. His head jerked and he blinked a few times, reality closing in on him when Castiel talked.

   "What's the part of the engine of a car, it starts with a 'C'. Carb... Carb..."

   "Carburetor." Dean said.

   "Yes." Castiel said, scribbling that in. Dean leaned forward on the table, resting his head down in his arms with his face to the side so he could watch Castiel's facial expressions as he focused on the paper.

   "Cas?"

   "Hmm?"

   "We should have a kid."

   Castiel let the newspaper fall against his lap, letting the pencil he was holding hang down from his fingers limply. "You're joking."

   "No." Dean said, lifting his head back up. Castiel saw his serious face.

   "Dean, we aren't exactly the most stable couple. Financially and otherwise." Castiel pointed out bluntly. "I stabbed you with a broken bottle for fuck's sake."

   "Yeah..." Dean said.

   "If you sober up, I would consider."

   Dean slumped down in his arms again, pouting slightly. "Hmph." He said, but he didn't protest. He knew Cas was right, all their fights had been his fault for the drinking. He couldn't help it though, if he was left alone his mind started to wander. It wandered to dark places, areas he never wanted to revisit, areas he wanted to be erased from his memory. To drown out the sorrows, Dean drank. A lot. More than he meant to, and then he transitioned from erasing memories to remembering them in vivid detail and hulking out. "New York?"

   "What?"

   "When we move, could we make it a clean slate? Forget Kansas. Forget everything up until we got married." Dean said, sitting up in his chair. "A new start. No more drinking, no more fights. We talk. I'll get a good job, too." Dean said, getting himself excited. Castiel was grinning at him, bright blue eyes shining in response to Dean's enthusiasm.

   "I'd like that." Castiel said. For the first time in months, a piece of the Dean Winchester he had fallen for broke through the rough, alcoholic exterior he had grown since the fire. Dean was smiling sheepishly at Castiel, and it looked like he was embarrassed by his own excitement. Castiel adored it, not letting his eyes avert for even a second as he watched Dean's face. Those bright green eyes, the soft dirty blond hair, the scruff from not shaving for a couple days. Castiel's heart got ahead of itself, and he swore he could feel it leap from his chest as Dean's eyes kept a hold on his.

   The staring was broken when there was a knock at their front door, and Dean stared at it. They were both confused, but Dean stood up and walked towards the door. He opened it, smiling at a woman standing there. She gave Dean a disapproving glare, and she crouched under the arm that went across to the door frame blocking her. Dean let her pass and shut the door, eyes growing for a moment. "Come right in." He said, throwing his hand up as he shut the door and exhaled, turning back around and following her.

   "Castiel." She said, long brown hair whipping behind her quick steps. She stood rigidly in front of Castiel, who had been looking up to see who would appear. "We need you at Sears, there's a huge rush."

   "You couldn't just call?" Castiel said, putting the paper aside and standing up.

   "We tried. You wouldn't answer so I came over as quickly as I could, I thought you were-" Megan stopped herself, clearing her throat as she remembered Dean was standing right behind her. Castiel's eyes shot up to him, then back down to Megan quickly. "Can you come to work?" She returned the conversation back to the original topic.

   "Uh, yeah. Yeah." Cas said, walking past them and grabbing his trench coat. "Let's go. I'll be back later tonight Dean, please stay sober so we can continue talking." He said without mentioning specifics so Megan didn't obtain information he didn't want her to know yet. They both exited, leaving Dean in the quiet again. His eyes immediately darted to the liquor cabinet next to the fridge, but he exhaled and ran a hand through his hair. He shook his head, turning the TV on and putting the volume up to drown out the thoughts. He filed through the box of movies, deciding on some Lionsgate film and popping it into the DVD player. The title 'The Red Violin' rolling across the screen, and Dean clicked play. Sounds echoed throughout the house, filling every corner with loud music and script. It was enough to push the thoughts back, and Dean's head felt empty as he watch the screen. Though his eyes were on it, nothing soaked into his head. It was almost so loud he couldn't hear it, adding in the fact of how uninterested he was.

   Dean was successful in staying sober for Castiel, who came home around 1 P.M. He looked tired and stressed when he threw the trench coat on the rack, and he had winced when he walked in the door as the sound of the third movie Dean had put in blasted in his ears. Dean quickly grabbed the remote, turning the volume down.

   "Are you going deaf?" Castiel asked when the volume was almost mute.

   "WHAT?" Dean shouted, laughing. Castiel rolled his eyes, walking to the couch and sitting down next to Dean, facing him and crossing his legs. Dean turned and did the same, their knees overlapping and hands brushing over each other's initially before Castiel held Dean's hands in his, squeezing tightly. "So, what did we need to finish talking about?" Dean asked, swaying their hands side to side as he gazed into Castiel's eyes.

   "Son or daughter?" Was all he said. Dean tilted his head slightly, he had never considered what sex he preferred. Eventually he shrugged.

   "Well," Castiel said, moving their arms up and down in what could be considered a wave. "I'd like a daughter." He said, biting his bottom lip.

   "She'd be outnumbered." Dean joked and had a toothy grin on his face, relaxing the muscles in his arms so Castiel could move them however.

   "She'd be good for us." Castiel said. "We could use a girl to look up to."

   "We could." Dean said thoughtfully, rubbing his thumbs across the back of Cas's hands. "Daughter it is then."

   That was the last time Dean and Castiel spoke of bringing a child into their life.

\- - -

   "Any big plans today, Cassy?" Balthazar asked, his body leaning over the desk way too close to Castiel again. This was the second time he'd stopped by that day, the first one going a little more eloquently as Castiel threatened HR on him again.

   "Yes, actually." Castiel said, looking up at Balthazar. He was leaning closer to Castiel now, incredibly intrigued. "My husband and I are going to make sweet, sweet love on every surface in our household." He said, and saw Balthazar's face drop and Hester choke on her yogurt beside him. What he saw next, however, was the audience sitting in the seats in front of him waiting for their lawyers all turning to stare at him. Some in disgust, some in shock. Castiel cleared his throat and looked back down at his desk. Balthazar walked off, finally defeated. Hester was staring at Castiel, spoon upside-down in her mouth as she ran the indented part down her tongue.

   "Nice." Was all she said and she giggled, then they got back to work.

\- - -

   He hadn't lied to Balthazar. When Castiel walked in the front door, Dean was standing in the door frame to the bedroom. The lights were dimmed and he was holding two glasses of red wine, reaching one out to offer to Castiel. Castiel walked up to Dean, accepting the glass in his hand. They clinked them together, then each took long sips. They walked over to the bed and both sat down on the side. Castiel was watching Dean, while Dean was looking down at his glass and slowly turning it between his fingers. Castiel took another sip, then turned his upper body and placed the glass on the nightstand behind him. When he came back to face Dean, Dean had turned and was staring at him. Dean leaned forward, causing Castiel to lay down on his back, hands up against Dean's chest. Dean's hand carried the flute to the night stand, placing it next to Cas's, then ran down his side. Dean leaned down and kissed him, hand moving down and resting on Castiel's stomach.

   Castiel rolled them over so Dean was on his back and he was over him, hot breath coating Dean's neck as he kissed and sucked at the area right behind Dean's ear. When he pulled back, Dean grabbed his tie and moved his wrist so the tie wrapped around his palm, then pulled Castiel down by it into a kiss. Their lips worked hard, trying to take every breath and moan they could as Castiel's hands worked at Dean's jeans, then at his own black pants. When they were both undone, he pushed Dean's pants down to his ankles hungrily as Dean held him tightly by his tie still. Cas's hands got his own pants off, then their boxers. Dean let the tie loose and Castiel stood up, feeding the tie out from under his collar and throwing it aside. He worked at his buttons, quickly tearing the shirt off and aside. Dean was staring up at him, mouth slightly open and eyes big and innocent looking. It drove Castiel mad, and he grabbed the bottom of Dean's shirt, lifting it over his arms and head and flinging it to the foot of the bed. Dean had already kicked off his socks, as did Cas.

   Their bodies joined again, pressing against one another. Sore pain rioted through Dean's chest and abdomen, but he released it through his mouth rather than rejecting Castiel. Cas had healed fully by now, but Dean's stomach had left over bruises trying to mend what was punctured. Castiel felt Dean's body contract under him and heard the slight wince, so he slowed down and gently brushed his hand over Dean's stomach. He had pulled back from kissing and stared at Dean, who put his hand over Cas's and nodded. Castiel leaned back in, locking their lips together and dancing their tongues in each other's mouths. Soft moans encouraged the other to go further, and Cas's hand reached down to grasp Dean's hard-on. Dean's throat let out a sign of pleasure at Castiel's touch, and he kissed harsher when Castiel moved his hand up and down. Castiel was moving slowly, his fingers clutching with just enough pressure to send Dean into a buck, to which Castiel put more weight on him to hold him still. Dean was moaning, telling Castiel to take him. And Cas did. He grabbed a condom out of the nightstand, causing the wine glasses to shake slightly but luckily not tip over. He stretched it on, then grabbed Dean by his thighs and lifted his legs up around his waist. Castiel moved forward over Dean, pressing his tip against him.

   "Fuck me." Dean sighed out, grabbed Castiel by the hair and pulling his head down into a kiss. Castiel thrusts harshly into Dean, bringing out a surprised gasp and moan from his own mouth. It had been quite a while since he topped, so the feeling of being inside Dean was incredibly sensational. He thrusts again, and again, picking up speed and force as the sexual drive tells him to keep going. Dean is moaning uncontrollably beneath him, and Castiel looses himself in his thoughts.

   He's in control right now. It's not something he often had over Dean, not in physical situations, so this was a rare opportunity. Castiel smiled into the kissing and slowed his thrusting, causing Dean's nails to dig into his back and rake down. Normally that would hurt, but the scratching merely made him hungrier for Dean's body.

   "Please," Dean whispered, head moving back and exposing his neck. Castiel took the opportunity to gently bite and suck at his neck, his own nails lightly sweeping down Dean's sides and waist. He dragged his fingertips lightly down Dean's pelvis, across his v-line, and ran his hand up Dean's dick with the touch of a feather. This caused Dean to buck up again, and Castiel tightened a grip on him and began pumping as he thrust.

   "F-f-fuck C-cas," Dean moaned out, and Castiel thought he had lost feeling in his back by now. Dean was much more audible than Castiel during sex, and it was something Castiel loved about him. Dean was not one to hold back on how he was feeling or what he wanted. "Harder," Dean pleaded, and Castiel decided to abide. He picked speed back up again, thrashing his hips against Dean and released his dick. He put both hands on Dean's hips standing up now and thrusting. Castiel's hands explored Dean's legs, moving up along his thighs to his calves and squeezing the muscles tenderly. Dean was moaning compounds of 'Fuck' and 'Oh my God' and 'Cas' over and over. Castiel leaned back over Dean, angling himself downwards, and kissing Dean's neck and down his chest.

   "FUCK!" Dean screamed out, and Castiel felt his abdomen become covered. He kept going, lasting only a few more seconds after Dean had orgasm. He gritted his teeth together, climaxing inside Dean. He collapsed on him and pulling out then rolling over to his back next to Dean. Dean was breathing just as heavy as he was, grunting as he tried to catch his breath. Castiel rolled onto Dean's arm that was spread out, and Dean brought it back so it wrapped over Castiel's bicep and his hand was on his chest. His other arm went over him and he rolled onto Castiel. He smiled down at him without any words, then gently kissed him. For a long, long time. "I'm so sorry." He whispered into Cas's lips when they parted, his eyes moving up from them to stare into those blue eyes. "For everything. For who I am." Dean continued, kissing Castiel quickly in between those two small sentences.

   Though they were small, they meant everything to Castiel. In two years Dean had not apologized to him once. Cas knew it was a hard thing for Dean to do, to take responsibility and not blame the alcohol or the fire. To finally blame himself, and not in the way a victim does.

   "I love you too." Castiel responded, entranced in the bright green that gazed down at him. Dean smiled, kissing Cas again. Dean pushed up to stand, bringing Castiel up with him. He brought Cas into his arms, leaning down those two inches he had on him and kissing him passionately. Dean turned them and walked forward so that Castiel was up against the wall, his hands slowly and lightly moving over his sides and up his chest. He grabbed Cas by his thighs and lifted him up so Cas's legs were around his waist, supporting him up against the wall. Dean's hands returned to Cas's waist, and held him tightly against himself. He never wanted to let go, never wanted to lose Castiel to that glass of whiskey that marked his breaking point.

   In the midst of Castiel's lips, Dean made a pact with himself.

   No more drinking.


	11. Spring Cleaning

   "No no no. The glass ones go in this one, assbutt." Castiel laughed, snatching the two whiskey bottles from the box full of plastic. He lined them up, completing a bottom layer of bottles in the box. "Are you sure about this?"

   "One-hundred percent." Dean nodded, reaching back up to the cabinets above the sink and grabbing another couple of bottles, passing them to Cas. "I want to fix things." He said. When Castiel turned back to grab another round of bottles, he found Dean's hands instead and felt his grip around him. "Fix us."

   The past few weeks had been refreshing. Dean hadn't drank a drop of alcohol since the red wine on Valentine's Day. He'd been sober, and Castiel saw a lot more of the Dean he loved. The broken man that suffered from the loss of his parents and little brother, that used alcohol instead of talking, who let his anger fuel him, was slowly fading. Their relationship, Castiel felt, was rekindling.

   Dean was happier too. He felt better, not just emotionally but physically. It was easier to get up in the morning, easier to do his job alongside Crowley. Dean had made friends now too; Garth, Rowena and Crowley took him out to parties and work organizations. Dean's mentality never changed though, he never touched alcohol served.

   "What, are you pregnant?" Crowley asked at a work party celebrating the retirement of one of the older women who worked the desk. He was drinking a beer, while Dean was tightly grasping a bottled water.

   "I wish that's what it was." Dean had responded and twisted the cap back on.

   There was still something that bothered Castiel about this. Something that kept him up at night longer than it should have. Sure, he was happy that Dean had quit drinking. It was why he quit that threw Cas off. He hadn't stopped because he realized he was hurting Castiel, or because he decided he had wanted a better life for them- Yes, that was part of the outcome that Dean later pointed out. Really, why he stopped, was because he got himself hurt. In one of his drinking fits, he had been physically injured. The fact that he had to be put through that for him to sober up bothered Castiel. A lot.

   Nonetheless, Castiel continued helping Dean empty out the liquor cabinets and then the fridge. They cleaned the whole house, in fact. Everything from chores like washing dishes and laundry to vacuuming both the carpets and the hardwood floors had been finished by that evening. When Dean turned the switch for the vacuum off and wheeled it out of the bedroom, Castiel helped him wind the cable back up then fit the machine back in the hallway closet. Both of them walked to the kitchen where boxes of alochol and other unwanted kitchen supplies were stacked.

   "Wow." Dean said, hands going to his hips as he walked forward and examined the towers of cardboard.

   "Oh. One more." Castiel called to Dean, grabbing a beer bottle from the fridge. He turned and tossed it to him, but was off target by a foot or so because it slammed against one of the stacks of boxes and sent them crashing to the ground. Dean looked at the mess, blinked, then cocked his head to one side as he looked up at Cas with an expression that could only say 'Really?'. Castiel laughed nervously. "You're cleaning it up." Dean said, bringing his hands up to his face and rubbing his temple. "You're cleaning it up." He repeated, now in a mutter as he walked away to crash in bed.

   Castiel did clean up. He swept up the broken glass into the trash can with a dust pan and handheld brush, then soaked the liquids up with a giant pile of paper towels. Putting what he could back in the boxes and the rest in the garbage, Cas gingerly carried each box out of the kitchen and into the garage by the other recycling bins. Cas locked the door behind him as he walked inside, then made his way to the bedroom where he crawled into bed with Dean, who was already asleep.

\- - -

   "Good morning, Discobolus." Dean sat at the edge of the bed, holding a coffee mug towards Castiel. Cas sat up as well, scooching himself backwards and wrapping his hands around the warm mug. At first the steam met his face, creating a layer of hot water on his lips and nose. The coffee met his tongue first, greeting it with a sting that let it know it was hot. The warm liquid soothed an itching in his throat and warmed his mouth down. He could feel it slide down his esophagus, and down into his chest.

   "Mmmm..." Castiel moaned lightly in response to the metaphorical hug the coffee gave him. "Thank you." Cas looked over the coffee cup as he took another sip, and Dean drank his own. He wasn't looking at Castiel, but must have felt his stare because Dean did look up after a few seconds.

   "What should we do today?" Dean asked, lowering the coffee mug to his lap and bouncing once on the bed. Castiel's coffee stirred a bit at the sudden movement.

   "I don't know." Castiel replied. He put the coffee mug on the nightstand and stretched his arms out while yawning. "Which Sunday is it?"

   "April 23rd." Dean replied after looking at his phone. He brought the coffee to his lips again, chugging it halfway down. Dean stood from the bed and walked back out to the kitchen. "Breakfast is ready, by the way!" Dean shouted back. Kicking the covers aside and grabbing his coffee Castiel stood from the bed to follow the smell of eggs, toast and coffee. Dean had two places at the table set up, and was using a pan at the stove with what Cas could only guess were the eggs. The toaster popped and two golden pieces of toasted bread sat half way out of it. Dean slid the bread slices onto a plate to join two other pieces and buttered them up. He returned to the eggs, flipping them twice then scooping them onto another plate. He carried them both, one in each hand, over to the table and set them in the middle. He walked back to turn the stove off, grabbing his coffee that was besdie it and returned to eat with Cas.

   "Good?" He smiled at Cas as he asked- or more like prodded.

  Castiel's hand raised to cover his mouth that held a bite of eggs. He nodded, swallowed, then spoke after lowering his hand. "Dean, your cooking is always delicious." He said, and saw Dean blush slightly and eat his food.

   Cooking was something Dean use to do early in their relationship. He'd wake Castiel up in the morning to the smell, and make him hungry just talking about what he wanted to make. They hardly went out on dates, as Dean insisted that he could cook a better meal for less. And he wasn't wrong. Seeing Dean cook now, something he hadn't done in years, it was amazing.

   Finishing their breakfast, they sat in silence and enjoyed the food. Dean cleaned up the dishes, throwing them in the dishwasher after refilling the dish soap. "So," Dean broke the silence and Castiel looked up to him. "Any ideas?"

   "Where's the newspaper?" He asked and Dean picked it up off the counter and handed it to him. Cas flipped through to the page that had the day's schedules on it.

   "I know you're not into county fairs," Castiel said, dropping the newspaper onto the table and putting a finger down on the huge advertisement. "But it's a huge pie fair."

   Dean leaned over Castiel's shoulder, brows creasing as he read. "Well." He said, standing back up. "We just have no choice then. Let's go."

   Dean and Castiel showered and got dressed, and by that time it was 10:40. They got into Dean's car and drove out to the park that was about an hour out. When they pulled into the parking lot there was a huge crowd already. They had arrived just half an hour after opening, so everything was set up and warm. Castiel followed Dean into the courtyard. "This is like heaven." Dean said smiling as the smells of tons of different pies collectively made love to his nose. Castiel wasn't a fan of pies, but he didn't care right now. He just wanted to see Dean happy.

  Happy wasn't even the tip of the iceberg when it came to describing Dean right then. He had no idea where to start, and was in a sort of primal trance. It was as if someone put a wolf in a room of hanging meat and it didn't know where to start so it just started peeing. Luckily, at least for now, Dean wasn't peeing himself. Castiel put his hand on Dean's arm and nodded towards a stand selling cakes. "I atleast want something while you walk around to the pie stands." Castiel said, and Dean followed him to it. He got a slice of vanilla cake with whipped cream frosting, the good kind, and a plastic fork. The cake was soft and moist. In other words, perfect.

   Dean quickly walked to the first pie stand where a woman had set up and was cutting through some strawberry pie. Dean stood in line while Castiel stood aside. He came back to Cas with a mouthful of pie and chipmunk cheeks. He smiled. Castiel laughed and rolled his eyes, and they walked around until Dean had eaten the pie slice. They did this for every stand until Dean had had a slice of every type of pie there- pumpkin, banana cream, lemon meringue, cherry, hell there was even razzleberry. Dean didn't know what that meant, but damn was it good. When Cas finished his cake slice while Dea was scouring the pie stands like it was a battle field, and went off to get a slice of chocolate cheesecake they were selling. It was incredibly creamy and rich, and Castiel had an orgasm in his mouth from it.

   They walked and ate, laughing with each other as they talked. Castiel was full by the end of his cheesecake and Dean was still going. It was incredible, Castiel thought, how much Dean could eat.

   With the main attraction behind them, Castiel grabbed Dean by his arm again and pulled his attention towards the game area. His finger rose to the dunking stand.

   "Please." Castiel laughed. "I haven't done one since middle school."

   "Are you expecting me to sit up there?" Dean asked, being dragged towards it as he spoke.

   "That's exactly what I'm expecting."

   He did. Reluctantly, Dean climbed up and sat on the little stool that held him over the water bucket. Castiel had Dean's leather jacket over one arm and was holding about six baseballs in his hands. He held five against his chest and threw one. Miss.

   "You should do it like that again!" Dean shouted down at him and the crowd around them laughed. Castiel threw again. Miss.

   "Hey, pretend I'm the boxes!" Dean shouted laughing, and Castiel laughed too. It threw him off and he missed again. He took a deep breath and threw the fourth ball, hitting the target but not hard enough. It just hit it and dropped.

   "Damn it." Castiel muttered, and threw again. Miss. He looked down at his hands and was holding the last one. "Come on." He whispered to himself, throwing it at the target. Miss. Defeated, Castiel stood there as Dean smiled down at him and shook his head slightly. A woman holding a child, no more than two or three years old, walked past the tank where Dean was still sitting on top of. The toddler's chest was against the mother's shoulder, and his arms were stretching out towards the target lever. The woman was standing just close enough that the kid hit it, sending Dean into the cold water below him. Castiel lost it, and walked off to the side as Dean crawled from the tank, soaked and cold. He walked over to Cas, and stood there staring at him. Dripping. Castiel didn't stop laughing as he looked up and down Dean quick. "That is my favorite child now." Castiel remarked. Dean said nothing, trying to hold a serious face but he smiled a bit. 

   "Screw you."

   "Please."

   Dean shook his head so water flew out around him. He walked with Castiel to the restroom building by the parking lot and pushed through the heavy door. Ringing his shirt out over the sink, he groaned as he put the cold fabric back over him. He didn't know what to do about the jeans though.

   "We can go lay in the sun." Castiel offered. It was a bright day and quite warm out, despite the occasional breeze.

   "Yeah, okay." Dean said. They found a place in the grass away from people and overlooking the nearby pond. They both laid down on their backs, staring up at the clouds and blue sky. Each breeze that came by sent shivers through Dean, his jeans absolutely soaked. He kicked his shoes and socks off, which didn't go into the tank with him, but were getting wet anyways. They both laid there for a while, atleast an hour went by. By then Dean's pants were somewhat dry, though still quite cold despite the sun's efforts to heat them up.

   It was 3:36 when they got in the car and left the fair to go back home. Dean changed into warm and dry clothes after taking a hot shower while Cas watched the TV. Nothing good was on as usual, but he listened to the news anchor drone on about government officials and what not. Dean had grabbed a cup of coffee and heated ot back up in the microwave and joined Cas on the couch. His arm wrapped around Cas's shoulder and held him close to him, mostly trying to soak up his heat. Castiel grabbed them both a blanket to wrap up individually around themselves, then cuddled up against Dean with his head to his chest. Dean drank his coffee, and Castiel took a nap.

\- - -

    "Excuse me," A voice beckoned Castiel, the first thing that snapped him back into Monday work. A woman was standing across the desk from him. She was in a tight suit, quite an expensive one, and her hair was back in a tight bun. She folded her hands together, leaning her arms against the desk surface as she spoke. "I have an appointment with my lawyer Raphael today." Castiel looked down at the appointment sheet, flipping it to April 24th. His finger glided across the sheet to find Raphael's section, then looked through the names and times.

   "Miss Naomi?" She nodded. "Then yes you do." Castiel looked back up at the woman and smiled, then reached for the cord phone that was beside him and dialed Raphael's office. "Naomi is waiting for you. Yes. All right." Raphael hang up, and the buzz of a dead line rang through Castiel's ears. Dropping the phone down against the receiver, he looked back up at the woman. "He's finishing up with a client, you can go in when they are done."

   "Thank you." Naomi smiled and nodded, returning to her seat.

   After a few minutes, Gabriel walked out down the hall. He slapped his hand down on the front desk, causing Hester to look up and Castiel to jump back. When Castiel looked up, he saw Gabriel was holding a chocolate bar in the other hand. He kept walking, waving back to Cas and Hecter before leaving. Castiel shook his head and sighed. Gabriel was not a classy guy like most of the clients were. His visits were always court mandated, though it was unclear to Castiel what he had done. Probably something like public nudity, or disturbance of the peace, or...

   "Sir?" Naomi was back at the desk, looking down at Castiel.

   "Oh sorry. You can go right down." He smiled up at her, and she nodded then went down the hall to Raphael's room.

\- - -

   Sears wasn't the usual run that day. Megan was gone, she was visiting family up in Ohio. That left Castiel with the new kid who had gotten the job a week or so ago.

   "Samandriel-"

   "Sam."

   "What?"

   "Um. Just Sam is fine I meant."

   "Oh, okay." Castiel lead him to the back room to show where the storage was. He hadn't been in back yet since the manager stuck him on cashier but he wasn't great at that so now she has him with Castiel and Megan in back. "This is where everything shipped to us is. We fold boxes of stuff over there," Cas pointed to the large. Low set table with chairs around it. "You can see what is what by the labels. Here's new shipments, here's clothes that people put back after trying on," Castiel walked around the back room showing Samandriel all the sortments. When that was done they got to work.

   "Is it just you back here?" Sam asked at one point while they folded.

   "No, Megan works back here. You've met her I'm pretty sure. Dark hair, short."

   "I think so." Sam nodded, sliding a shirt aside. "Are you two...?" He asked, trailing off. It was the lack of a finished sentence that caused Castiel to look up.

   "What?"

   "Together?"

   "Oh. No, we're just good friends."

   "Oh."

   They finished folding the quota by the time 7 rolled around, and Castiel drove home to find Dean making dinner. "What's cooking?" He asked. It smelled amazing, but he couldn't pinpoint what it was exactly.

   "There's garlic bread in the oven and I'm making soup on the stove." He answered, stirring the pot. "It's just chicken noodle."

   "Smells amazing." Castiel said, kissing Dean as he walked by. "How was work?" He called back as he walked into the bedroom, loosening the tie from his neck and then unbuttoning his shirt. He changed while Dean responded.

   "It was good. Just sat around the offices, we didn't have any appointments today. We do tomorrow though." Dean held a spoon full of soup up to his mouth and blowing lightly on it. He sipped it, then nodded. Perfect. He grabbed bowls from the cabinets and set them up, and turned to see Castiel was grabbing the plates. They arranged them so the bowls were centered on the plates, and Dean ladeled soup into the bowls. By that time the bread was done so he pulled that out, moved it to a large serving dish and cut it up, letting the slices lean on one another at an angle. They both sat at the table, eating in between sharing words about how their days went 

   They cleaned the table up and put away leftovers in the fridge before turning lights off and locking doors, and shutting windows against the bite of spring.


	12. Browsing

Dean's eyes snapped open at 3:24 the next morning. It was still dark outside. Crickets filled the night with mating calls, the sound pounding away at his ears. They were muffled by the wall, the crickets, but the sound was still infuriatingly loud. Dean's arms were wrapped around Castiel, one leg beneath Cas's and the other between them. Castiel was sound asleep, nose whistling with each exhale. Dean yawned, snuggling back into the warmth provided by the mound of heat against him and closed his eyes.

 

They opened again at 3:56, now met by shy chirps of songbirds outside every so often. Dean slid his arms from under Castiel, moving slowly and quietly as he pushed the covers aside and got to his feet. Castiel shifted and moved his arms as though feeling around for the familiar body behind him so Dean tucked the blankets back to act as a sort of mock human. It worked, and Castiel settled back down. Dean's hands found the hem of the shirt he was in, pulling up and over his head and tossing the tee aside. He was just in boxers now, and felt his way around the dark room to the closet. His eyes strained to see in front of him as he felt around. When fingers met leather, he gripped tight and pulled the sleeves from the hanger's arms and let it fall across his forearm. He felt around more until he found the denim of jeans, and finally grabbed a shirt. Stepping lightly to the bathroom, he twisted the door's handle slowly and inched his way in, sliding through the opening he created that was just large enough for him to squeeze through and then slowly shut the door. His hands glided across the wall until they found the light switch, flicking it on. The lights above the mirror momentarily blinded Dean, causing his eyes to clench shut as they adjusted. "Uugh.." He groaned, rubbing one hand across his eyes, setting the clothes down on the counter space beside the sink. His hands found his face again, figer tips pulling down at the bags under his eyes as he stared into the mirror, chin in his palms and elbows pressed to the sink edge. He felt himself drifting off, but was jerked away as his arms slid forward into the sink. Catching himself, he shook his head and stood upright again and ran a hand through his hair.

 

 _Mornings are a bitch_ , he decided before grabbing the jeans and putting them on. He balanced on one leg as he fit the raised one into a pant leg, fighting with the denim to go over his foot and ankle. His balance wobbled slightly, so he hopped to the side and ended up with one hand against the door while the other brought the pants up around the raised thigh. Dean managed to pull the other leg on, shimmying the jeans up around his waist and zipping the fly shut, and finally buttoning them in place. Next, and more simply, Dean slid his arms into the sleeves of the shirt as it rolled together at his chest, then tucked his head down and raised the back of the shirt over his head. When he found the opening, his head poked through and he fixed the shirt hem down around his waist, just covering the jeans. He looked in the mirror. Pale green shirt, worn jeans. Perfect. Next, he grabbed the flannel that sneaked into his hands with the shirt as he had been pawing at the clothes in the pitch black closet. He put it on over the shirt, sleeves going down to his elbows and scruching slightly, protesting at the muscles that threatened to tear the sleeves if he moved too strainingly. Finally, the brown leather jacket covered over him, the cold that seeped through the bathroom window being cut off from nipping his skin. Dean opened the bathroom door after running a quick brush through his hair and hit the light switch. He navigated the dark room to the hamper, dropping the T-shirt in.

 

Barely any sunlight was going through the window, past the blinds, causing the sky to be a shade lighter of blue and the silhouettes of trees, houses and cars beginning to contrast against the sky. Dean quietly closed the bedroom door behind him and stepped out to the kitchen, old floorboards creaking beneath each foot he put too much weight on. The floor changed from wood to linoleum just outside the bedroom door, so the creaking changed to crackles of dried adhesive beneath the tiles. Locating the light switch, Dean turned the lights over the kitchen on and pulled a tin of ground coffee from the cupboard. His eyes found the illuminated digits on the stove that read 4:26. It changed to 4:27, and he looked back down to what he was doing. He replaced the paper filter, putting a scoop of the coffee into the new one. Next he rinsed out the coffee pot, filled it with water, then poured that into the coffee maker's tank before sliding the pot back in place. Dean shut the lid, then clicked brew. A few seconds later, the coffee maker was making a whirring sound to say it was doing its job. Slowly the coffee drained into the pot, and Dean grabbed two mugs from a cupboard above the sink. He set them down gently next to the coffee maker, then stepped sideways to the fridge. Opening the door, he leaned down and grabbed the Half 'N Half carton and placed it on the counter with the mugs, then walked to the pantry and grabbed the sugar. The clock now read 4:30, and the sky had brightened quite a bit from the last time he looked outside. It was a lighter shade of blue, and the colors of objects could be distinguished between one another now.

 

While he waited for the coffee to finish, Dean walked back into the bedroom. Light was pouring through now, allowing him to see much better, and he grabbed the shoes that Castiel had no doubtedly tucked under the bed for him as usual. They were black boots that laced up the front, some might call them a hybrid of work boots and a good fashion taste. Dean had had them for years, well before Castiel and he met. His dad had gotten them for him when he started working on cars with him, so probably around sophomore or junior year.

 

The coffee maker beeped and Dean walked back to the kitchen, grabbing the pot and pouring coffee into both mugs. He added cream, then sugar only to Castiel's- two spoonfuls, just how he liked it. His eyes returned to the stove's clock. 4:36. _Time goes by fas_ t, Dean thought. _Way too fast._ He set the coffee aside after taking a sip, then pulled out a cleaned frying pan from the cabinet beneath the sink. He set it on the stove, igniting the burner beneath it, then went back to the fridge and pulled out the case of eggs. Pushing the tabs in and opening the eggs, he pulled out two and set them in a bowl beside the stove. Next he grabbed the milk carton and a stick of butter. The butter he used first, using a knife to take off a thin slice and slide it around in the pan. He cracked the eggs in the bowl, tossing the shells aside and whisking the eggs together. Next he added milk in with the eggs, whisking it more, then pouring the mix into the pan. He grabbed a spatula, moving it around in the pan to make sure nothing burned or sticked. When they were finished, he lifted the pan from the stove as he reached up and pulled two plates out, then brushed the scrambled eggs onto the plate and set that aside. He repeated the process, filling another portion of the second plate with eggs.

 

Dean cut the burner off, putting the eggs and milk back inside the fridge. He kept the butter out to soften, then grabbed the loaf of bread. Twisting the tie off and grabbing out two slices, he dropped them into the slots on the toaster then turned it to around the middle setting. Dean turned and grabbed his coffee, taking another few sips as he waited. When the toaster spit the bread back out, it was a golden brown and quite hot. Dean's fingers found that out first hand when he grabbed the pieces and tossed them onto the plates, one per. Next he grabbed the knife and cut some of the butter off, spreading it onto the pieces of toast.

 

Now, for the final serving. Dean grabbed the package of sausage from the fridge, setting it aside of the stove. He ran the frying pan under cold water, listening to the sizzles and cracks as cold met hot. He dried it off, then ran a paper towel around it to clean any grease or burnt butter off. Once clean the pan was placed back on the stove and the burners were turned back on. Dean slid more butter onto the pan, and once it started sizzling he ripped open the plastic from the sausage and placed two on the pan. He used a fork to roll them when needed. After about nine or ten minutes, the sausages were golden and black, thoroughly cooked through. He placed one on each plate, the cut them up in slices and laid them across the edge of the plates. Dean turned the burners off, setting the frying pan down in the sink, then carried one plate in each hand to the dining room table. He walked back to the coffee mugs, wrapping his fingers around the handles and carrying them to the table. Next he grabbed a two forks and some napkins, setting the table up for breakfast completely. It wasn't so quiet anymore Dean realized when the sounds of birds chirping and singing finally registered with him. They would be beautiful if it wasn't so constant.

 

Dean looked to the stove again. 5:15.

 _Appointement at work today,_ Dean's mind was slow and heavy. _Gotta get more coffee to bring to work for it. And pack a lunch. What should I have for lunch? What do I want? Fucking birds. Maybe I can just pack a sandwich. Oh, no, there's leftover soup. That's good. Hopefully the travel cup is clean. I think I cleaned it, should I go check now? Honestly, I'm going to fill a bird feeder with rice. How are they so loud so early? Right, soup. Soup soup soup. Sooooouuuuup. Wow, it doesn't even sound like a word anymore. Sooooooouuuup. Sowp. Sup._

 

It was around 5:20 that Castiel emerged from the bedroom, hair a mess and eyes not quite focused enough to be considered awake. Dean grinned up at him from the table. He hadn't touched his food yet. Instead he had been staring off in thought. Those thoughts weren't quite as enlightening as he had hoped, he acknowledged. Castiel slid the chair back and sat down then slid forward.

 

"Did the smell wake you up?" Dean was still grinning on accident, but he didn't stop.

 

"I wish. I just got cold." Castiel smiled back at Dean, holding eye contact for about three seconds before breaking it and reaching for the coffee. His hands wrapped around the hot mug, soaking in the warmth as he took a sip. Castiel's eyes fluttered when the steam created a sort of blanket across his face and the warm coffee slid down his throat leaving behind a hot trail of tingles. "Mmm..." He sighed, fingers tightening around the mug. His eyes opened back up to see Dean staring at him. "What?"

 

"I dunno, you're just so cute in the morning." Dean said, resting his chin in his palms and leaning down on the table. "Messy hair and large blue eyes." Dean said that last part out loud without meaning to, and Castiel was smiling behind the mug.

 

"After almost three years, and I'm still cute to you." Castiel laughed now, lowering the mug to the table. "Those were the first words you ever said to me." He was thinking back to senior year of high school now, remembering how he met Dean. "You remember right?"

 

"Of course." Dean said, sitting up and grabbing his fork. He filled his mouth with eggs, then swallowed and continued. "I had seen you at the beginning of the year, but was always too afraid to talk to you."

 

"Afraid of me? Really?"

 

"Yeah. I use to watch you through the book shelves if our classes were at the library together."

 

"Creepy." Castiel teased him, and Dean just stuck his tongue out.

 

"August 5th I built up the courage. We had talked before then for many months, but I asked you out that day during lunch."

 

"I remember that." Castiel said, shoveling the eggs into his mouth now. God, it was delicious food.

 

"I said, 'Hey, I think you're cute.'"

  
"Then you froze."

 

"Shut up." Dean whined playfully. "Then I said 'Wanna go get lunch some time?'" He was half way done with the sausage now, and put his fork down to wash the food down with coffee.

 

"I said yes." Castiel continued the story as Dean drank, finishing the toast on his plate. He only had the sausage left now, and starting eating away at that.

 

"Thank God." Dean said when he put his coffee down. "Who knows who I would be with if you hadn't."

 

"Yeah." Castiel said, then was silent in thought for a moment. "And I'd have no cockblock against Balthazar." He chuckled. So did Dean.

 

Both of their plates were cleaned off, and Dean stood up and grabbed Castiel's plate from across the table and stacked it on his. He carried them both to the sink and rinsed them off, then set them on their sides in the dishwasher. Shutting the dishwasher and turning it on, he walked back to the table and grabbed his coffee, raising it to his lips and taking down a gulp. It was quite cooler now, the steam had depleted quite a bit. Warm despite the fact, and still refreshing. Dean finished off the coffee and set the mug in the sink, rinsing it out. He grabbed the coffee pot and filled up a travel mug, opening the fridge and grabbing the cream, then topping it off with the lid and returning the cream to the shelf. He did the same for Castiel at his request, adding the sugar in his then screwing the lid down in place and handing the mug to Cas.

 

"Thank you." Castiel said as his hands grabbed the mug, and he set it on the counter after taking a small taste test. "Perfection." He smiled, then put the travel mug on the kitchen counter. His hands went up to Dean's shoulders and he raised on his toes, kissing him. When their mouths opened against each other's, Dean's hands at his hips, the taste of coffee overpowered everything else. It was sweet and bitter all together, but also warm and comforting. Cas was the one to pull them apart, and Dean smiled down at him, hand raised to Cas's head right behind his ear and fingers in his hair, holding his forehead against Dean's. "I love you." Castiel whispered, smiling only a little as he stared into Dean's bright green eyes.

 

"I love you too." Dean responded in a matching whisper.

 

It was about 5:30 now, and they had three hours to kill. Castiel walked back to the bedroom, opening the door to the light that flooded into the room. The sky was colored now, a rainbow of colors. The red was a thin strip across the horizon that clashed against a yellowish-green background. The yellow faded up to green for a very small blur across the sky, which turned into a light blue. That blue got darker as Castiel looked up further, leaning into the window slightly. It got quite dark at the top, arguably a purplish-blue.

 

Cas slid the door to the closet open, shuffling through the mixed shirts. Some belonged to him, the rest to Dean. They failed to keep them organized a long time ago, so they stopped trying. Castiel pulled a white button-up dress shirt off the hanger and the black pants off of another. On the door hung a rack of ties, and Castiel grabbed his favorite- the blue one with a lighter blue tip. He didn't bother going into the bathroom, instead getting dressed right at the closet. He kicked off the sweatpants he wore to bed and wrestled the dress pants up around his legs and over his waist, clipping it shut and zipping the fly. He grabbed a black belt as well, sliding it through the loops and buckling it in front. Next he pulled his shirt up over his head and let it drop to the ground beside the shirt, which he leaned down and picked up. The white shirt was already unbuttoned, making his life easier, and he slid his arms in. Cas rolled his shoulders and adjusted the shirt to fit better and align the buttons to the corresponding holes. He started from the top, fingers working quickly after years of wearing this type of shirt every work day. Once buttoned up, he walked to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. Unfolding his collar, he held the blue tie in his hand and wrapped it around his neck, then feeding it down so the thinner part was beneath and higher up than the thicker. Up, over, down and around. It took him one try to get the tie knotted perfectly, and he flipped his collar back down around the tie. His fingers went to the knot, shaking it slightly as his other hand pulled the tie down to tighten it. Castiel returned to the closet and pulled a black jacket down and slid it on over the shirt. He grabbed the clothes he wore as pajamas and tossed them into the hamper.

 

Castiel opened the bathroom door more as he walked back in, grabbing the same brush Dean had used and fixed the bed head. He shut the bathroom light off as he walked out, letting the door swing closed behind him but bounce back, leaving a small gap between the frame and the door. Cas left the bedroom door open behind him. His eyes fell upon the clock on the stove. 5:52. Dean was leaning half way out of the door leading to the garage, one leg raised behind him to keep the door open and a hand holding him up by the door frame. There was a loud KER-CHUNK as Dean dropped an empty plastic milk carton into the blue recycling bin, then pulled himself back up and let the door hit his ass when it tried to close. He stepped out of the way, letting the door swing almost all the way shut. He gave it a final shove, hearing the click of the tongue and then locking it. He walked into the kitchen again, opening the fridge.

 

"Soooouuup." He muttered to himself as the word became more and more distant from sounding correct. "Soup, soup, soup."

 

"Top shelf, blue bowl with plastic wrap over it." Castiel called over to him, and saw as Dean must have found it since he leaned into the fridge, moved things out of the way and turned around holding the bowl.

 

Dean set the bowl on the counter, using his leg to shut the fridge, and peeled the plastic wrap off. He reached up and opened a cupboard, rumaging around for that travel cup. He found it in back, using his fingers to convince it to move close enough for them to get a firm grasp on. When he succeeded, he put the cup down and pulled a larger spoon out of a drawer and scooped some of the soup into the cup. It was full in no time, the yellow liquid spotted with flecks of parsley and oregano while soaking pieces of chicken and a bunch of noodles. It was cold, obviously, and Dean figured he could use the microwave at work when lunch came around. Dean resealed the bowl with the plastic wrap, running his hands around the outside to make sure it was tightly wrapped around before returning the bowl back in the fridge. He set the soup next to his coffee.

 

Castiel came to the fridge next, pulling out turkey breast and provalone cheese. He grabbed the loaf of bread and untwisted it, pulling two slices out and placing them in the toaster. There was one Ziploc bag left, so he took the whole box out and put the bag down on the counter, carrying the box out to the recyling and tossing it in. He returned, and leaned against the counter as he waited for the toaster to finish.

 

Dean had taken a seat at the couch, remote in hand as he leaned forward and watched the news anchors bickering. The channel had become less of a news station and more of a talk show discussing their opinions on political or social conflicts despite how much fact or knowledge they had to base off of. A disgusted groan after one of the women said something so unintelligable he felt his own brain cells dying sent Dean's thumb to the channel button, flipping through. There was hardly anything on but morning news, no good shows. Not even reruns of good shows. Dean hit the power button, the TV flashing white before there was a faint click and the screen darkened from a grey to black. Dean turned around, squinting at the stove. It was too far away to see. "What time is it?"

 

"6:33." Castiel answered. Still two hours before work started. The toast popped up and Cas grabbed the pieces, throwing them on top of the Ziploc. He put some of the turkey slices and cheese between the toasted bread, then sealed it in the bag.

 

The time leading up until 8:00 was slow. Dean figured that not much was happening in the world after two more attempts to watch morning news channels. He had shut off the TV for good now and grabbed his coffee and soup, then turned and went to the front door. Castiel was by it, standing at the coat rack and fitting his trench over his suit. He had his bag over his shoulder afterwards, packing the sandwich in with his notebook and phone. Cas left first as Dean held the door open then shut it behind them, turning the key and then yanking it out. He tried opening the door to make sure it was locked. It didn't budge. They walked across the lawn to their cars, the ankle-high grass tickling their skin. It was wet with morning dew as well, so while Castiel's pants resisted the dew climbing up, a few inches of the bottom of Dean's became soaked.

 

Dean was in his car first, swinging the door open and sitting down. He placed the coffee in between his legs, mentally cursing the lack of cup holders in the vehicle. He reached out and slammed the door towards him, then wiggled the key into the ignition. The engine stuttered awake, then quieted to a gentle purr. He started backing out, the sound of gravel crunching under tires until he got on the road. He headed westwards to the offices.

 

Castiel got in his car as well, the engine mimicking how Dean's did but much less elegantly. He shut the door after the car woke up, and then cleared the thin layer of water from the front window with a couple wiper sweeps. He backed out as well, shoving his bag to shotgun, and headed east to the law firm.

 

\- - -

 

At 8:30 exactly, Dean pulled into his space in the parking lot and cut the engine, grabbing his soup and coffee. Locking the car behind him, he walked into the office. He waved at the lady that worked the front desk, smiling.

 

"How are you this morning, Lany?" He asked, slowing his speed to converse.

 

"Oh, I'm doing lovely dear." She replied, smiling back up at Dean past glasses that rested near the tip of her nose. Her fingers were typing quickly at the computer in front of her, even as she looked up she didn't stop. "And you?"

 

"I'm well, thank you." Dean replied, then kept on walking. He headed down the corridor, locating the door to his office. He rattled the door handle before twisting it, pushing the door open and walking in. The air conditioning kicked in a couple seconds later, and Dean took his seat at his desk in the back corner. The soup went into a drawer to be kept for later, while his coffee found the coaster on his desk to sit on.

 

It was quiet while Dean waited. He had turned the computer at his desk on, waiting for it to boot up. 'Microsoft Windows' appeared on the screen in a wiping animation, black text against a light blue background and that multi-colored window flag logo flaunting itself with a trail of black dots fading behind it. The sound is what came next, that chime which Dean had come to loathe after having to hear it every morning at work. It took a couple minutes to load before the screen requesting log in information appeared.

 

Dean typed quickly, the username and password becoming a habit to type and he had memorized the keys without having to look down at them.

 

dwinchester

c45t137

 

The username was given to him, and the password had to contain letters and numbers (as requested by Rowena) and had to be something Dean could remember. What he chose was easily both. The screen flashed to black, then the desktop appeared. It was quite organized; recycling bin in the top corner, Outlook e-mail shortcut beneath that, and two folders under that; personal and work.

 

The personal was full of saved hyperlinks to apartments Dean found in New York, some near Time Square, some near Rockefeller Center, the rest in other places of the city. They all had their perks, such as multiple bedrooms and full bathrooms, gorgeous views, walking distances to cafés or theaters. Each one had downfalls too; some required extra upkeeping, or had noisy neighbors, or needed extra money to go towards repairing wires or plumbing. _It will all work out,_ Dean reasoned. The work folder contained the appointment schedule that Crowley and himself kept updated as much as possible. There was also copies of Dean's license and ID card as back up incase he needed to make more.

 

Dean double-clicked on the personal folder, finding the apartment that he had liked most.

 

It was a modern looking place with hardwood flooring everywhere except in the bedroom where a sheek white carpet lies. The windows were large, almost reaching from the ceiling to the floor. They were across the wall that had a beautiful view of the city from above. The skyline wasn't visible, but rather was blocked by the decoration of huge skyscrapers. It was so high up you couldn't hear the busy streets below if the windows were closed, which was a benefit. The bedroom was big enough to fit two beds into, and had a full bathroom connecting to it. The kitchen was open to the living room, a table tucked into the corner as the dining room.

 

It was Dean's ideal apartment, he had found it about a month ago and didn't want to look past it. All the plumbing was in order, as was the electricity.

 

The only thing was the price. At a high $4,780 a month rent, Dean's mouth went dry every time he read the price. He kept returning, hoping it would magically drop. It never did, not yet at least.

 

Dean jumped in his seat when he heard the office door open, and he turned to see Crowley walking in. The door clicked in place behind him.

 

"Good morning." The gruff english accent greeted Dean with a sour taste in his mouth, though that was just from the listing price.

 

"Good morning." Dean replied, turning back to the desktop.

 

"Still looking at apartments?" Crowley asked, sitting down at his desk with his back to Dean.

 

"Yeah." Dean's voice showed obvious annoyance, but Crowley didn't point it out.

 

"Find any you like?"

 

"Yes, many. It's just the prices..."

 

"Yeah, New York is very expensive."

 

"Very." Dean agreed, closing out of the browser and moving the cursor down over the Home button, clicking then hitting the power option. A drop box opened, and Dean selected 'Sleep'. "Ready to go?"

 

"One sec." Crowley said, shuffling through papers. Dean was standing already, holding his coffee tightly and sipping it as he waited. Crowley was making piles, what Dean could only assume was mail he grabbed from the PO boxes. Crowley handled the paperwork since he had seniority, which Dean didn't oppose to, so he got to sort the mail out between personal and business, organizing appointments and noting who he had to return calls to. "Alright." He said, standing up and grabbing his own coffee, then turning and following Dean out to the company truck. They hopped in, and Crowley started the engine up.

 

"Where to today?" Dean asked, adjusting himself in the seat and pulling the seatbelt down over his chest, fighting with it to get into the thin slot and pushing down when he finally matched it up until there was a click. He put his coffee down in the cop holder. His hand reached down and he turned the radio on, keeping the volume low so they could talk over it.

 

"Back to Ellen's, she said she found another termite hole." Crowley answered, leaning over the steering wheel to look both ways before he turned and pulled out onto the road in the direction of Ellen's house.

 

"Wonderful." Dean remarked sarcastically, staring at the radio as he turned the knob. Eventually, he landed on a station that played old rock music and Kansas was on. "Hell yeah." He said, shooting Crowley a grin. Crowley wasn't much for rock which had thrown Dean off earlier in meeting him, but Dean soon learned that Crowley wasn't much for anything. Dean cranked up the volume since their conversation was over, then bobbed his head and played air guitar to the song while mouthing along. Crowley had grown accustomed to Dean's passion for classic rock, and didn't even bat an eye anymore if Dean did happen to break into a guitar solo or drums while they were driving. And he did often.

 

They pulled into Ellen's driveway as Hotel California ended, and Crowley cut the engine to the truck. "Let's go." Crowley said, ducking out of the seat and hopping down to the driveway causing the stones to crunch beneath him. He shut the door, and Dean got out on his own side. They slowly walked towards the front door to Ellen's house.

 

"Termites again?" Dean asked, refreshing his mind of what they were there to do that day.

 

"Yes." Crowley confirmed. "Different spot she said, but just as large."

 

"Gross." Dean sighed, watching the ground as he walked. His steps studdered as he kicked a larger stone, then quickened his pace for a second to catch up with Crowley. Climbing the short staircase up to the porch, Crowley rapped against the thin metal door. Jo answered, smiling at them- this time only in a friendly way. She stood behind the door, visible through the screen.

 

"MOM!" She called out. Ellen answered, voice distant but clearly coming from the kitchen.

 

"EXTERMINATORS ARE HERE!" Jo screamed in response, and Ellen emerged from the arch leading to the kitchen drying her hands with a dish towel. She flung it over her shoulder as Jo opened the door for the two to enter. Jo nodded as they thanked her, then disappeared around a corner.

 

"Right this way." Ellen said, and swung the basement door open. She hit a light switch, and Dean hesitated as he saw the unfinished room beneath them. It looked as though it hadn't been cleaned in forever; cobwebs stretched across corners and in the space between the wall and stair railing. "Excuse the mess, we don't go down here much." She said. When they got to the bottom, she turned on another light switch. The room to their left lit up, and Crowley's and Dean's eyes locked onto the torn white plastic wrap still on the walls. Boxes were lined up as well as filing cabinets and desks. But that wasn't the problem, many people had unfinished basements.

 

What caught their attention was the huge hole in the wall, stretching about half the length horizontally. Dean could see the termites crawling in and out, following each other's pheromones to find food. Dean's mouth was gaping, he'd never seen anything like it in his time working at the extermination company. The room had gone silent, and Dean broke his stare to notice Ellen standing rigidly, arms crossed at her chest and shaking her head.

 

"This is like the worst sitcom ever." Crowley commented, face scrunched as he stared at the problem.

 

"Yeah." Dean said, moving down another step to see better. "Bugs." Another step, now standing beside Crowley. "This is going to be the worst episode ever." He groaned, and Ellen smirked a bit.

 

"Are you boys up for the job?" She said, turning to them and cocking her head slightly.

 

"Absolutely." Crowley replied, smiling and rotating towards Dean. "Let's go get the tools from the truck." He said, raising his coffee cup to motion back up the stairs. Dean was quick to move, swiftly walking through the house and out the front door with Crowley in his steps. They moved around to the back and Crowley slid a key into a lock that held the truck shut, twisted it, then let it fall open.

 

Dean grabbed the large box of bug spray, setting it on the trunk rain cover and shuffling through. He grabbed one that said 'Instant Kill', another that said 'Odor Free' and a third that advertised specialty in termites. "Maybe we can just use all of them at once." Dean said, face contricting in a disgusted expression.

 

"That'll do." Crowley replied, sliding a fairly large portable tool box out of the trunk and letting it hang in his arm. He reached down and grabbed the trunk, slamming it up and shut. He grabbed the key from his full hand into the empty one, locking the trunk. They both walked back to the house swinging the front door open and letting it slam behind them. Ellen wasn't in the basement this time, and they didn't expect her to be around as they worked.

 

"Let's drown these sons of bitches." Dean said, lifting his t-shirt collar up over his nose and holding it still in his hand, pinching his nose slightly. He lifted the first can, holding down the arisol so it continued to spray as he moved closer and angled it around to get all he could. The swarm scattered, some dying in place and others falling after they were killed. Those that survived retreated into the wall and disappeared. He switched sprays now, picking up the one specifically for termites. It had something in it that turned them away because of the smell, though Dean wasn't sure quite what exactly. Some sort of chemical, probably. He let that can go for about a minute, soaking the length of the chewed up wood in the termite killer. The wall stopped moving either from the insects dying or fleeing. "That should dry in a few minutes, then we can patch it up." Dean said, turning back to Crowley for validation. He nodded.

 

Dean sat down next to Crowley, placing the can back into the basket he had carried out. His legs spread and he leaned forward proping himself up on his elbows, tightening the collar around his nose as the chemical smell tried to seep through. Unfortunately for himself he hadn't taken a shower this morning, so he didn't smell all too great this up close and personal either- but it beat the chemicals. Crowley sat silently not at all bothered by the smell and just continued sipping his coffee. Dean had his coffee at his feet, but didn't want to risk feeling nauseated in order to drink it.

 

"When do you plan on moving?" Crowley piped up, the sound of his metal mug clicking against the concrete floor snapping Dean awake and alert.

 

"If it all works out, we'll have enough money by fall next year. Probably around August, maybe even late July." He said through his shirt.

 

"So you did find an apartment then?"

 

"Not exactly. I have a few picked out but I'll have to send them over to Cas and talk with him about it."

 

"Mm." Crowley sighed to acknowledge Dean's response, though he wasn't sure what else there was to say.

 

"I might have him come in today or tomorrow to look at them since we don't have computers at home." Dean commented mostly to himself to make a mental note.

 

"Sounds good."

 

Dean nodded now, but only slightly. He let his shirt drop back down and breathed in the insect sprays he had drenched the wall in. Reaching down into his jean pocket, he grabbed his phone and pulled it out. His thumb manuevered over the keys locating the contact list, then down to 'C's, and to Cas. He dialed him.

 

_Ring. Ring. Ring._

  
"Hello?" Cas's voice was muffled slightly, then Dean heard sounds as though he was readjusting the phone.

 

"Cas?" Dean said.

 

"Yes."

 

"Hey, what time do you get out of the law firm?"

 

"Three."

 

"Would you be able to come in today at three then, I want you to look at apartments with me. I have some picked out but-"

 

"I have work at Sears afterwards."

 

"Can't Megan cover? It should only be a few minutes."

 

"I can try. I gotta go though, I'll call you back."

 

"Okay. Love you."

 

"Love you too."

 

_Click. Empty line._

 

"Hard day at the office, dear?" Crowley teased sipping his coffee.

"We'll see."

 

It was silent for a few minutes afterwards.

 

"Wall is probably dry now." Dean said.

 

"Grab a brush then." Crowley said, standing up and picking up his own. He grabbed one of the cans of paste and Dean grabbed the other. They got to work on patching up the eaten drywall, creating a thick layer of hardened plastic over the wood. Next, they covered the white plastic in front of the wall with the same glue-like substance and pasted a new sheet of matching insulation over the hole. About fourty minutes had passed when Dean looked at his phone. In small white letters on the screen read

 

_Missed Call_

_Castiel_

 

"Damn it." Dean groaned, stepping back from the wall. He dialed Castiel.

 

"Sorry, I was working on patching up a wall."

 

"It's okay. I got Megan to cover for me at Sears, so I will be over at your work at three."

 

"Awesome. I'll meet you out front and lead you back to my office."

 

"See you."

 

"Yep."

 

Dean hung up, and Crowley was finished rubbing the plastic down on the wall. "We all set to go?" Dean asked, placing the brush back into the basket as well as his can of paste.

 

"Yes." Crowley nodded, stepping back as well and looking at the work they had done. "That should hold until we get the chemicals shipped in, right?" He didn't really need reassurance on it as he knew what he was doing, but he asked for validation anyways.

 

"Hopefully." Dean sighed, reorganizing the cans of chemicals in the box and heaving it up, each hand holding one of the boxes. Crowley grabbed their coffee mugs, one per hand, and led Dean up the stairs. Ellen met them at the front door holding her check book.

 

"Thank ya both so much." She said, scribbling her signature down on the check and writing out the amount. "I'll call ya if I need anything else."

 

"Anytime, ma'am." Crowley smiled, accepting the check between his index and middle finger, holding it tightly.

 

Dean nodded silently and followed Crowley out the front door, carrying the two baskets around to the trunk. Crowley unlocked the trunk after setting a coffee mug on the rain cover and fishing his keys from his coat pocket. Dean slid the baskets in, then Crowley locked the trunk back up again. Dean grabbed the coffee mug off the rain cover that happened to be his, and walked up to shotgun. The truck rocked as they both hopped up and in, slamming the doors behind them. It started to sprinkle a few seconds after they got in the truck, the windows getting covered in droplets of water. Crowley turned the window wipers on, then backed out and drove back to the offices.

The ride was about thirty five minutes back due to a small accident that had happened along the way, but soon enough Crowley and Dean were running from the truck into the offices to escape the rain that had intensified. Crowley went down to their office while Dean headed over to the vending machine and grabbed himself some crackers. He checked his phone for the time. 1:16. Two hours to go until Cas got off work and drove to Dean's office. Impatient, he paced the front foyer for a few minutes before walking back to his office. Dean shook his mouse and the computer woke up, showing the sign in screen. Typing quickly Dean logged on and opened the personal folder, pulling up a browser window for each apartment link. There were about twelve open, ranging from cheap to expensive, run down to well kept, modern to classic. Most were in a skyscraper, typically higher up which provided a great view of the city scape. Idealy, the higher the better to reduce noise so it was easier to sleep or talk to one another without having to scream over busses and crowds. Dean lost himself into the apartments, finishing his coffee while he browsed. Crowley was silent behind him, probably doing paper work and filing the check they recieved away, deducting amounts for paychecks and bills.

 

Before he knew it his phone buzzed, and he clicked it on to read what it said. In small white font, it read:

_Castiel_

_"Out front, where are you? I am being rained on."_

 

Dean replied with _"Omw"_

 

Another buzz.

_"What?"_

 

Laughing lightly, Dean replied with _"On my way"_ to clarify. _"It's what the kids say."_ He had no idea why he knew that, he assumed he just saw it somewhere.

_  
"Oh."_

 

Dean met Castiel in the front lobby, waving him in. Lany looked up for a second, then back down to her computer screen and whatever she was typing away at. Castiel only waved at her and she smiled back. He followed Dean down the hallway, and was hit with a wave of hot air as he walked into the office. Crowley turned to see who it was, smiled politely, then turned back around to do more papers.

 

"So," Castiel said as Dean sat down at the computer. "What did you want me to help with?"

 

"I've been looking at apartments for a while now for if- when we move and I need you to help me narrow it down."

 

"Okay." Castiel said, looking around. "Can I grab a chair from somewhere?"

 

"Take mine." Crowley said, standing up. "I have somewhere to be, I'll be gone for a while." He wheeled his chair over to Castiel.

 

"Thank you." Castiel said, pulling the chair up next to Dean.

 

"Good luck." Crowley said, swinging the office door open and walking out letting the heavy door click in place behind him when it shut.

 

Dean moved his mouse around, expanding each browser window then starting off the small presentation. "So, there's this one." He said, scrolling down so the information could be seen with the slideshow of pictures.

 

"No." Castiel said bluntly. "Says it needs plumbing and electrical work. We shouldn't plan to pay for repair for our first apartment."

 

"Okay." Dean nodded, clicking the red 'X'. "This one is on a lower floor so it would be noisier."

 

"One bedroom, one bathroom..." Castiel muttered to himself, reading the information given. "Twin sized bed perfect size." He pointed out. "Too small. We have a queen bed."

 

"See? This is why I needed you." Dean laughed, and Cas smiled softly.

 

"What about this one?"

 

"Dean, we can't afford that."

 

"If we waited a little longer and saved up more we could."

 

"Dean, realistically we can't unless we both got higher paying jobs."

 

"Alright, alright." He complied, closing the window.

 

They went through the next nine apartments and managed to pick out two they liked and could afford. One was on a high floor and needed very minor electrical wiring fixed up, but everything else was perfect. There was one full bathroom, one bedroom big enough, and a kitchen and living room combined in one area creating an 'L' shaped apartment. It was more on the expensive side from the view it had, but affordable nonetheless.

 

The second apartment was cheaper by about $300, but was less modernized and on a lower floor level. The plumbing and electrical were up to code and working perfectly, but it was a smaller bedroom with one full bathroom. By the time they had narrowed the choices down it was about 5:30, and Castiel stood up, sliding the chair back to Crowley's desk.

 

"Thanks for coming in." Dean said, standing up and kissing Castiel quickly. "See you at home." Castiel kissed him again, slightly longer but still quick.

 

"Yes. See you at home." He echoed, smiling and leaving to drive to Sears and try to slide in unnoticed so he didn't get yelled at. Cas knew Megan would come through for him, saying he was having car troubles or something along those lines.

 

Dean saved the two apartments they had picked out, deleting the other ten. The rest of the day was relaxing, filling out paperwork and answering his phone to schedule appointments with clientele. He had finished his crackers by the time 6:30 read on his phone, and he checked out of work. Walking outside, the rain had stopped at mist collected high in the air, thick and heavy. It was cooler outside than it was before the rain, but not by much. Dean wiped his sleeve against the window next to the driver's seat, then opened the door and slid into his seat. He swung the door shut behind him, adjusting so his legs fit correctly. He turned the key in the ignition, engine sputtering before kicking awake.

 

"Thata girl." Dean said, patting the dashboard before buckling himself in and backing out, driving home.

The house was dark when he stepped through the front door. He flicked the lightswitch, turning the lights on, and tossed his keys on the kitchen counter. Dean kicked his shoes off and set them next to the coat rack, hanging his leather jacket up on it as well. Drowsiness set in as the heater he had fixed fought off the cool air from outside. Dean fell onto the couch, grabbing the blanket that was folded over the arm and spreading it out over him. He grabbed a decorative pillow Castiel had bought in the event of their fights.

 

Dean's mind latched onto the thought of 'fight' and went from there. Dean had stopped drinking, and since then Castiel and him had not had a single fight. Everything was running smoothly, like it did before the fire. Before Dean felt himself losing grip of reality as well as the loss of his family, which had hit to rock bottom him like a freight train. Now though? It was different. Better.

 

Better was the last word to race through Dean's mind before his eyes fluttered then shut, and he knocked out quickly to the hum of the heater.

 

Castiel woke him up at some point to move him into bed, but he didn't remember it very well. He just knew it had happened from a very short clip of memory, as well as the fact that he woke up the next day under the covers, holding Castiel tight and close against him.

 


	13. I Dream a Little Dream

Castiel was holding a wine glass tight in his hands, uncomfortable as he stood in the corner of the room, leaning against a table. The edge of the table was digging into where his thighs met his cheeks, his legs tingling as blood flow was cut off a bit. The loss of feeling shot down his right leg, removing his ability to walk correctly. It was late December, the 20th, and the last day of work before he was let off for Christmas break. Standing in the Sears department store in the back was incredibly surreal this time of year. Rather than folding clothes or talking to Megan, he was standing alone in the corner listening to co-workers chat. The room had been decorated with tinsel of either silver, red or green. There was a plastic tree a few inches taller than himself spray painted almost a correct green, covered in small lights of a wider spectrum of colors than the tinsel was. The silver tinsel did wrap around the branches, accompanied by fragile hanging ornaments. At the top was an angel, its body folded into a praying position with wings spread out enough to provide the perfect balance for it to stay on the nimble horizontal plastic. There was a dim light inside trying to break through, a yellow glow showing faintly through the cream plastic of the angel. The air was filled with chatter and laughs and giggles of women, or awkward talks between co-workers who were estranged and making light conversation with one another, not sure of the topic to build upon. Castiel watched in amusement, not interested in mingling. He couldn't mingle, not with anybody but Megan. The rest of them asked stereotypical questions about him being gay and he couldn't handle it. 'Are you a top or bottom?', 'Who wears the pants?' were two of the most common he had gotten over the years. He wondered, each time, why it was okay for them to ask him but if he asked a straight person they'd look at him like he was crazy.

 

The white wine in his flute swirled as he moved his hand in a slow circle, keeping the wine from flattening. His eyes scanned the small crowd, looking around. Samandriel had turned just in time to make eye contact with him, holding his gaze. Sam turned to the two guys he was talking to, excused himself, and sort of skipped over to Castiel and leaned against the table about two feet away. "Nice party." Was all Sam said, and Cas had to fight the urge to roll his eyes. _Be polite,_ he reminded himself despite his hatred for small talk.

 

"I suppose so." Was all Castiel could muster as a response.

 

"Why don't you go talk with people?" Boy, was this kid blunt and direct.

 

"Never worked out in the past, always goes from small talk to a one-eighty into questions about my sex life." Castiel said, but Samandriel didn't respond right away. "Either that, or questions about rumors that spread."

 

"Oh." Sam said now, looking to Castiel. "What about Meg?"

 

"She doesn't come to these things."

 

"Why do you?"

 

Castiel didn't really have an answer to that. Logically, Megan would be the only reason he would show up- someone to talk to. Since she never showed up, he was left with no reason to stick around. "Free food." Was what he decided on, though he didn't really eat any of the dishes people brought either. Sam just nodded, accepting the answer. It was the best he'd get. Samandriel got called over by a group of guys who worked the registers that Cas didn't know well. Since Samandriel got moved back to registers due to a shortage of workers, Castiel hadn't talked to him much. Left alone again, he got lost in his own thoughts, wine still swirling in his hand. He downed the entire glass in about three gulps, feeling air hitch a ride down his throat and his chest burst with pain. It only lasted a few seconds then diminished, and Cas set the flute on a table. He grabbed his trench coat off the back of a chair and gently opened one of the double doors that led out of the back room. When it clicked shut, the noise of the party was muffled and it was probably the closest thing he'd gotten to silence all day. Castiel walked out of the department store to his car. _This. This was silence,_ he decided as he sat at the wheel, hands at ten and four but not moving. After a minute or so of being frozen in place, Castiel turned the key and the engine hiccuped, then purred alive. He turned the heat to full blast, sitting in wait as the car heated up. The windows defrosted, the thin layer of ice blanketing turning into blurry condensation. Turning the wipers on, he cleared a line of view and pulled out of the Sears parking lot, pushing his way into the traffic rush this area had during Christmas. The trip home had an extra ten minutes added on because of the cars, but Castiel made it home safely.

 

Dean was passed out on the couch, a glass of half-empty hot chocolate cold on the coffee table. Castiel hung his trench and bag up, picking the mug up. It left a ring on the wood, which he dabbed with his sleeve and walked the cup to the sink, setting it down lightly. Dean stirred in his sleep at the sound, snorting a bit as he readjusted into a more comfortable position. Cas worked the tie from his neck, flinging it into the laundry followed by unbuttoning of his shirt and removing his pants, socks and shoes. He stuffed the clothes piled in the laundry down, nudging his shoes into the closet. He left Dean on the couch to sleep, and collapsed himself almost nude in the bed. The chill of winter finally sunk in and he burrowed under the sheets, cacooning. Dean came in at some point, their bodies finding comfort in one another's warmth as the sound of hot air making contact with cold pipes ticked through the walls.

 

\- - - **December 31** **st** **, 2000**

 

The heater broke again. The small house was frigid, almost unbearable to stay in as the windows iced over and the December air filled each room. It was eye-opening, however- nature was powerful. Deadly. Without the technology we have today, Castiel thought to himself as the spoon he was holding lightly between his index and thumb stirred in the cup of hot noodles, we'd never survive winter. "...And Time Square is filled with excited people, a crowd loud and thrilled for the new year to come around tonight at 12. This is New Years Eve..." The television was filling the living room, Castiel standing in the kitchen making a dinner. His back was the the TV, but while he listened to the screams and cheers he could picture the crowd of kissing college kids covered in fur, as well as children with their parents yelling and jumping in excitement. Castiel imagined the huge advertisement screens reading 'NEW YEARS EVE' in big, animated font, as well as the assembly of news reporters. The giant pole with the ball at the top on a timer just waiting to drop. A time stamp of hour, minute and seconds at the top of the screen in white counting up. Once Castiel turned around and walked to the living room to sit beside Dean, the numbers counting down flashed on screen.

 

The clock turned to 11:59:50, and the ball began to drop.

 

"Ten!" The crowd chanted together, watching the ball being a slow fall. Castiel spooned noodles into his mouth while Dean sat in silence.

 

"Nine!"

 

"Eight!"

 

"Seven!"

 

Slurp.

 

"Six!"

 

"Five!"

 

"Four!"

 

"Three!" Extra screams, jumping.

 

"Two!" Louder.

 

"ONE!" The screens flashed the new year in giant white, throbbing font on a busy background, the camera zoomed in on messy make outs, proposals and sweet kisses. The reporters got their screen time too, giving each other awkward friendly smooches. When the craze died down a bit, the camera focused back on the reporters.

 

"How do you feel about another year?" She asked, turning her microphone that was clenched in frozen hands to her coworker.

 

"We've come a long way." He replied in a laugh. "I can't wait to see what this one holds."

 

Slurp.

 

As Castiel finished up his noodles, Dean groaned and lean forward. "This will be a good year, I can feel it." He said, clicking the off button on the remote and facing Castiel. "We'll move to New York, start our new lives." He smiled. Castiel placed the empty cup on the coffee table and Dean took his hands in his own. "Forget Kansas, we're leaving all of this behind."

 

"I love you." Castiel grinned into a long, splendid kiss. He felt his heart raise in what was described as happiness. In this situation, it was called 'getting your hopes up' as Castiel pictured the idealized lifestyle he wanted in the city. He knew he shouldn't, it was dangerous and he'd only be let down if it wasn't perfect. _But it will be perfect,_ he reasoned. _As long as Dean is there with me, it will be perfect._

 

Castiel cleaned up his dishes, tossing the spoon in the utensil holder of the dishwasher and the cup upside-down on the rack.

 

Dean walked through the kitchen and into the bedroom, reaching his hands down and pulling the bottom of his shirt up and over his head. He tossed it into the hamper that sat in the corner, followed by his jeans and boxers. The cold air engulfed his body, sending goosebumps and shivers down his arms and legs. He could feel his teeth chattering, his body rapidly shaking to generate what heat it could. Dean quickly filed through the clothes in the closet, grabbing the warmest shirt and pants he had. He threw on a heavy set of sweat pants and a thick sweatshirt, then nestled tightly under the blankets. Cas came in a few seconds later, shutting the door behind him.

 

\- - -

 

The date Monday, January 1st was printed in large letters at the headline of the newspaper. Cas was unsure as to why they were even subscribed to the thing still, nobody used newspapers anymore. He guessed they were just old fashioned- besides, they didn't have internet. Just cable TV. Dean was playing that in the living room a few feet away as Castiel flipped through the paper, locating the crossword puzzle. He had a pen ready in hand, and his eyes squinted, lips slightly parted as his tongue poked out in concentration. Their work day started in an hour, but neither of them felt ready as their Christmas break came to an end that morning. They were both tired, having been up quite late after destroying their sleep schedule due to watching movies on the couch, toasty warm under blankets until about four or five A.M every night.

 

Breakfast was done and over, just some buttermilk pancakes with maple syrup and coffee to wash it all down. He had taken some Aspirin and washed it down with the coffee. Castiel told himself he had a headache, or bachache, toothache, stomachache. Every type of ache flooded his mind, so he took pain medication to ease it. He didn't really have it, his brain told him he did so that's what he thought he felt. Castiel's dependency on pain medications had strengthened, changing from every once in a while since the incident with the broken bottle to every morning. He took one pill a day, and couldn't seem to lean himself off of it. It'd become a routine; a habit. For breakfast, Dean had cooked, as usual, humming some classic rock song as he did. Castiel couldn't quite pinpoint the song he was singing, and knew better than to ask if he wanted to avoid a history lesson on the band's origin and inspiration for those particular lyrics. He had narrowed it down to Wheel In The Sky though, and he was quite sure that's what it was. Dean's singing voice was just as stunning as his face, which simply just made him the whole package. I'm a lucky man, Castiel smiled as he wrote 'canteloupe' into seven-down for 'fruit that wishes to wed traditionally'.

 

At 8:00, Castiel was shoving his keys into his car and Dean the same to the Impala. They drove their separate ways, and Cas arrived at work around 8:30. He trudged through slush and ice to the front doors, opening to to a small array of clinetele int he front lobby of the law firm. He walked to the front desk where he found a new computer with a note next to it.

 

_We got your ticket a while ago and were waiting for the shipment to come in, so here's your new computer. Thanks for being patient, sorry for the inconvenience. Happy Holidays._

 

Castiel folded the paper and set it aside with a smile of silent thanks. His eyes caught writing in barely visible pink on the back side. A signature had been written.

 

_Hugs and Kisses,_

_Balthazar_

 

The smile faded immediately and was replaced by a groan. Hester looked towards him, furrowing her brows as if to ask 'What's wrong?' Castiel said nothing and slid the note to her. She read the writing about the new computer and shrugged. "Flip it over." Cas instructed, raising the base of his palms to his eyes and rubbing them tenderly. Her face widened in an entertained smile. "Glad you find the harassment funny." Cas teased her, and she stuck her tongue out from under the upside-down spoon in her mouth that no doubtedly had scooped yogurt. His guess was confirmed when her other hand pulled the container of yogurt into view from behind her monitor. Cas snatched the letter back and tossed it away in the trash can under the desk. Not a second later, the cord phone rang by his computer.

 

"Did you get my note?" A familiar English accent proded.

 

"Yes. Balthazar, this line is for clients only." Castiel responded, irritation parading on his tongue as he spoke. Hester only giggled through her mouthful.

 

"There is something you could do for me. I can pay." Balthazar's voice was just as suggestive as Castiel assumed his eyes were. In response, Castiel pushed the button to hang up then set the phone back down on the reciever. He ran his hands across his face again in mock stress. Hester had given her attention to a customer on her line.

 

Castiel's phone was barren that day, he only recieved five more calls afterwards- two of which were Balthazar. Castiel had hung up the second time he called, but the third went a little differently.

 

"I'll tell you what," Castiel said, which got Balthazar to stop speaking. "You can take me out for coffee as nothing more than two co-workers, though you can fantasize all you want. We will both pay for our own drinks, and the night will not progress any further than that as I am a married man."

 

"Are you fucking with me, Cassy?" Balthazar asked.

 

"That's exactly what I'm not going to do. I'm moving in a few months and you won't see me ever again." Castiel said, jotting down some notes on paper.

 

"Oh." Somehow, he'd rendered Balthazar speechless. Finally. Fucking finally.

 

"Yes. So that is why I am letting you do this. Do we have a deal?" He knew it wasn't what Balthazar had imagined this as, but it was as close to his ocean of hopes and dreams as Castiel wanted to wade.

 

"Yes. I'll pick you up at-"

 

"I will meet you at the diner at 8:00 tonight."

 

"Okay."

 

"Bye." Castiel finished, hanging up. Hester was staring at him.

 

"You're moving?" She asked, eyes sad.

 

"Yes. Dean and I are moving out to New York City. I've always wanted to go, but it was his idea to stay." Castiel smiled, writing down more notes. Hester smiled back when he looked up.

 

"That sounds lovely." She nodded. "We'll miss you here though. I will, atleast."

 

"I'll miss you too, Hester." Cas said. "But not to jump ahead. We're planning on moving in August, likely late August." Hester silently nodded, then was taken away to another call. Castiel's line remained silent for the rest of his shift. He fled the law firm at 3:09, walking quickly out to his car and driving out of the lot heading to Sears. He pulled up, bumping the concrete strip with the front wheels and bouncing back a few inches, hitting the brakes. He was nervous. In his head he'd gone over at least a hundred different ways to break to Megan that he and Dean were moving to the city, that they'd likely only talk over phone or see each other every few years. In reality, they'd probably meet once more and then never again. Castiel walked in, changed into his work uniform in the employee men's bathroom, and returned to the back room to find Megan folding with her back to him. He kneeled down by her side, sliding a stack of clothes towards him and peeling an unfolded shirt from the top of the pile and holding it up. His index fingers pushed the sleeves behind the body of the shirt, then he waved it forward so the bottom half laid on the table and he could fold the top half back down. He repeated this with the shirt pile as he talked.

 

"So, I have something improtant to tell you." Castiel said on his third shirt after saying hi to her.

 

"What's that?" She asked, going through her piles like lightning.

 

"I've been trying to come up with ways to say it, so I'm just going to say it," Castiel assumed a defensive tone. "You might get mad but-"  
"Spit it out." Megan said, letting her hands fall flat against a folded shirt and turning her body a bit towards Castiel, grabbing his gaze and holding it assertively.

 

"Okay." Cas said, sighing out a deep breath and mimicking her movements to face her. "In August, I'm quitting this job."

 

"What? Why?"

 

"Well, I'm moving."

 

"Where the hell are you moving?"

 

"New York City."

 

There was silence, hostile silence. For too long. Megan broke it with more questions. "With Dean?" Castiel had been fearing this question. His throat tightened when he swallowed, reading her eyes as 'You better not leave me here to run off with your recordly abusive husband'. He nodded twice in quick, nervous jolts as if he were a child whose mother asked him if he was the one that had covered the wall in crayon even though she knew it was him. Megan's eyes set ablaze. "Are you stupid?" Castiel didn't laugh it off like he normally would, but instead dropped his eyes. Megan noticed him break their contact, and snapped her fingers in front of her face. "Are you?" Castiel's heart skipped a beat, trying to find the right words to answer her.

 

"I don't think so."

 

"Castiel." Her voice scolded him the meaning of a hundred words combined into just his full, first name.

 

"Mhm." He said, trying to break eye contact but her hold on him was strong and intense.

 

"You are moving thousands of miles away to live with an abusive partner, while addicted to pain meds? Is that your definition of a smart idea?"

 

Castiel was taken back by the last part of the first question, and she must have seen his confusion on his face because she slid his bag out from under his knees, opening it up. She grabbed the bottle that was half empty and held it up in his face, the white becoming less of a comforting shade in her hands. "You think I haven't noticed? You've been acting weird lately, going to the bathroom a suspicious amount. You're more tired, or atleast you look it." Megan said, dropping the bottle back in. The pills rattled in response and she shoved the bag under. "So I looked through your bag and saw that, plus the receit. Castiel, too many could damage you. A lot."

 

"I know, but I can't stop. I just have so much aching-"

 

"No, you don't. It's excuses to be dependent on something, because you think it's the only constant in your life you have control over." Megan said, grabbing Cas's hands and squeezing them. "Cas," It was the first time she had ever used his nickname, and it wasn't a comforting feeling he felt. Only more like he was being disciplined. "I'm here. You can see a doctor. Stay in Kansas, get help-"

 

"No."

 

"...What?"

 

"I don't want to see a doctor. I don't want help. And I certainly don't want to stay here." Castiel said, standing up and forcing her hands off of his. She let them fall to her side as she looked up at him. "And you're not going to tie me down here." He said, raising his voice. He'd never done that to her before, and in the instant after he did he wasn't proud of it. "I-I'm sorry." Castiel said, quickly running out of the back room.

 

"Castiel, wait," She said, running faster and grabbing his arm. She turned him around, and Castiel expected an apology, or an explanation, or more attempts at reasoning or consolence. What he got, thought, was his bag shoved into his hand. "Have fun in New York." Megan said, and Castiel saw her holding back spitting in his face. He ripped the bag from her hands and wheeled around, thundering out. His manager tried to stop him, but saw the look on his face and let him walk. He got to his car, turning it on. The clock read 2:47. Cas revved up the engine and sped home.

 

Walking in the door, he threw the bag aside and slammed the door behind him. His back followed the door and he leaned against it as it swung shut, his fingers finding the lock. The next thing his fingers found was his bag, and he grabbed the bottle of pain medication. His hand pressed down on the cap and he opened it. Next, he froze, staring into the bottle. The white pills beckoned him as his head started to throb, then his back, then his thumbs. Castiel walked over to the sink, tipping the bottle upside-down and pouring the pills down the drain. He hit the faucet on, letting cold water flush the meds down the pipes. He stood over the sink with his head hung, arms spread out so one hand was holding him up on either side of the sink, shoulders poking up over his neck. "Fuck." He whispered first, then screamed it as he sent his arm sweeping harshly across the kitchen counter sending cups and plates sliding and flying off. They hit the ground, a few plates chipping but the glasses shattering. "FUCK!" He screamed again, leaning his back against the counter and burying his hands in his palms. His hands became wet with tears, eyes clenched shut. He'd messed up again- but this time he had nobody to blame but himself.

 

\- - -

 

Dean pulled into the driveway around 7:15, his arrival marked by the loud crunching of gravel heard through the door and windows. Castiel was on the couch holding a pillow to his chest, laying down and asleep. Dean let the door slam behind him not seeing Cas, causing him to jump into a somewhat awake state. The pillow fell from his grasp.

 

"Oh, sorry babe." Dean said when he saw Castiel sit up suddenly and gasp before realizing it was just him. He walked into the kitchen. "What happened here?" Dean asked, bending over and picking up a plate that had lost a part of the edge. He stacked the plates on one another, some with minor chips and others with a little less than half broken off.

 

"Um," Cas said, trying to find an explination. "I was trying to clean them and they slipped."

 

Dean examined the dishes more, his shoe finding the shattered glass with a definite crunch. His eyes went down, but came back up to the plates. His fingers ran over dried food. "They're still dirty from breakfast." He said, recognizing the dried syrup on them.

 

"As I said." Castiel said, standing from the couch. "They slipped." It was obvious Cas was lying, but Dean didn't push. He set them on the counter and followed after Castiel who sat at the dining table, tapping his fingers. Dean sat down next to him, placing a hand over the fidgeting one of Cas's and trying to grab his eyes.

 

"What's bothering you?" Dean asked, rubbing up and down from Castiel's wrist to his fingers. Castiel said nothing, just shook his head. "Cas, what's wrong?"

"I just," Castiel said, returning Dean's stare into the green abyss. "I'm having second thoughts. Maybe we should just stay in Kansas."

 

"I thought you've always wanted to go to New York?" Dean inquired, sitting back a little as Castiel's proposal.

 

"I have."

 

"Then why the sudden change in thought?'

 

Castiel was silent as he thought about what to respond with. Should he use Megan as an excuse? That would mean having to come clean about his pain medicaition problem, which he wasn't willing to do. Atleast, not yet. "I've been having this one dream," He decided on. It wasn't a lie at all, but it wasn't the reason he'd changed his mind. "Where we are on a train entering New York City." He paused.

 

"Mhm?" Dean urged.

 

"Well, it's beautiful and everything just like the picutres. We're in a seat and I always said 'Dean, look!' And I point to the skyline of towers and skyscrapers." Dean smiled. "And you always are reading some pamphlet, and you look up and say 'Wow, look at that!'". He continued his explination as Dean listen quietly, his hand no longer soothingly moving up and down but just resting on his hand. "The train pulls to a stop by a hotel where everyone is staying at. We're in the back, and we stand up." Castiel went quiet as he formed his words in his brain before saying them. Dean waited patiently beside him, fingers twitching as he debated with himself whether he should move his hand or not. He decided not to.

 

"Suddenly everyone is screaming and looks out the window, and there's a huge truck heading straight for the train. Brakes aren't working, driver lost control and is panicking. It strikes the train and the train tips, rolling down a hill. We die, I think. I don't know, I always wake up after the train rolls twice." Cas's gaze has dropped now and he is scraping the nail of his index finger of the hand Dean isn't holding against the finish of the table. "I've had this dream over and over." That was true. It had been months of him having this dream. Not every night, thankfully, but enough to leave an impression on him.

 

"Hmm." Dean hummed thoughtfully, fingertips grazing over the back of Castiel's hand as he moved it away. "Maybe you should talk to a therapist."

 

"Excuse me?"

 

"Ya know, a doctor. They could totally help you with this, I'm sure it's a common anxiety issue people get before big events in their lives. Like weddings, or children, or moving in your case." Dean said, then cracked this thumbs nervously hoping Cas wouldn't be mad at the suggestion.

 

"Yeah." Cas agreed, surprising Dean. "I think I will." He smiled. They smiled at each other for a long while, then Cas broke the stare to look at the clock. 8:02. "SHIT!" He said, standing up and running for his trench, then pulling his phone out of his bag. "I have to go, I promised Balthazar I'd go out for coffee so he'd leave me alone." Castiel gave a short summary to Dean, running around like a headless chicken rushing to grab what he needed. Wallet, keys, phone, coat.

 

"Should I be jealous?" Dean teased, nervously chuckling.

 

"No, no of course not. I told him it is strictly as co-workers." Castiel said, walking to Dean and giving him a wet kiss. "I won't be gone long. Don't wait up for me." He smiled, swinging the door roughly and letting it slam behind him. Dean had nodded, then sighed once Castiel was gone and went to take a shower.

 

Castiel hit the gas after backing out of his driveway, speeding to the diner to meet Balthazar, who had probably been waiting for a good while. He got to the diner at 8:16, and walked in. Balthazar stood up and waved him over, which Castiel walked towards and sat across from him at a booth.

 

"Sorry I'm late, I lost track of time." Cas said, taking his trench coat off and placing it in a messy pile beside him on the booth.

 

"That's okay, I've only been here a few minutes." Balthazar said.

 

"That's good, then."

 

A waitress walked over holding a stack of menus and handed them both their own, then pulled out a notebook and pen. The pen she clicked, smiling at them. "I'm Jo I'll be your waitress for tonight." The young blonde smiled at them, preparing to write. "Can I start you two off with some drinks?"

 

"I'll have a coffee, black. Please." Balthazar ordered, smiling up at her. She scribbled abbreviations for the drink on her notebook.

 

"And I'll take the house blend, cream and sugar." Castiel took his turn, and she jotted it down, nodded at them and smiled before walking away to the kitchen to hand in the order.

 

"So you're moving?" Balthazar asked leaning back in the booth, raising one arm so it rested across the length of the back.

 

"Yes, New York City."

 

"Oh wow, beautiful place."

 

"You've been?"

 

"Yes, many times. I travel a lot for my company." He stated, readjusting his position so he was leaning forward with his arms crossed against the table. "Stunning buildings, the bridges and railways are fantastic to look at."

 

"Really now?" Castiel asked, to which Balthazar nodded. "What do you do?"

 

"I'm an architect." He said, and turned his head to see Jo carrying coffee over to them.

 

"One house blend, cream and sugar," She said, placing it in front of Castiel. "And one black." She said, grabbing her pen and paper again. "Are we ordering food as well?"

 

"Yes, I'll have your homemade turkey noodle soup please. Extra salt."

 

"Yes sir, and for you?" She looked over to Castiel who was flipping through the menu.

 

"I'll have one of your Angus cheeseburgers." He said, and handed her his menu after she scribbled the order down. She took Balthazar's too.

"Yes sir, I'll be right out with your orders." She smiled again, returning back to the kitchen.

 

"So an architect? What do you mostly design?" Castiel asked, sipping the coffee.

 

"Towers, buildings mostly. I've tried bridges- suspension, draw- but I don't seem to be too good at that." Balthazar smiled, taking a drink of his own. "I've designed atleast one building in each major city so far. Nothing huge, mostly just apartment buildings."

 

"Oh, apartment buildings?" Castiel asked.

 

"Yes yes." Balthazar took another sip, nodding as his tongue tingled from the hot liquid. "Many of them actually reside in NYC, coincidentally. Would you be interested in looking at them?"

 

"I would." Castiel said, watching as Balthazar looked to his left and moved something around, pulling out a laptop. He turned it so the back was against the window and they could both see. Opening the business page he worked for, he navigated through tabs to find the apartment buildings in NYC he designed.

 

"That's the one we're looking at." Castiel pointed, creating a sort of ripple effect as he added pressure to the plasma screen.

 

"Really?" Balthazar asked with a smile. "That's a good one, it's a lot more spacious that the description gives it credit for."

 

"Excellent." Castiel said, craning his neck to have a better view. "It's quite a low price, very much in our price range."

 

"I highly recommend it, the woman who manages these apartments is a good friend of mine. She's very nice and patient with payments since she's rich already." Balthazar explained, right clicking on a link to open it as a new tab, which led to the woman's autobiography page. An older-looking woman showed up on screen in the corner with a lot of links and information beside it to describe her.

 

"It looked perfect." He said in relation to the apartment, and nodded when the profile showed up. "Yes, she does look very nice." He agreed. Jo appeared beside them, holding two plates. She was balancing a bowl on one and set it in front of Balthazar.

 

"Homemade turkey noodle soup, extra salt." She echoed to make sure it was correct, and when Balthazar accepted and nodded she smiled at him before placing Castiel's order in front of him. "And one Angus cheeseburger." Castiel thanked her as Balthazar was blowing on a steaming spoonful of soup. "Will that be all?" She asked.

 

"Might I have a bottle of catsup?" Castiel asked, and she hurried off to the kitchen. She was back in seconds, setting the bottle on the table. "Thank you, dear." He said.

 

"Of course. Enjoy your meal." She said, walking to another table to wait on.

 

Balthazar and Castiel ate their meal in relative silence, only breaking it to discuss their jobs. Balthazar began packing his laptop away in his bag, and they stood up leaving the empty dishes there. Castiel gulped the rest of his coffe, and Balthazar waved the bill over. Jo was quick since the place only had two other tables being served. Balthazar placed his credit card down and insisted on paying for Cas's, who protested but lost the fight.

"No, no please." Balthazar said, pushing Cas's card away. "My treat. You save up all you can for your trip."

 

Balthazar's encouragement for the move lightened Castiel's mood, and he was now eagerly reconsidering moving.

 

The time had flown by and when Castiel saw the clock on the stove when he got home it was 10:30 P.M. He yawned as he walked to the bedroom where Dean's silhouette could be made out in the sheets, and Cas got dressed in pajamas before climbing in with him. That night, he didn't have the dream of the train.

 


	14. Drink Up, Little Brother

The front lobby was quiet except for the occasional phone ring or clicking of wooden toys in the waiting area. Castiel checked in at the desk, an older woman with a quiet voice telling him he was correct about his appointment time and date and that he could go sit down. Castiel walked around, trench coat lifting ever so slightly behind him as he stepped as quietly and as lightly as he could to a seat. The waiting area wasn't filled, but not empty. Castiel took a seat on the right against the wall where nobody else was sitting. The room was surrounded in light pastel yellow walls with a window on the right that spanned across the wall leaving about two feet on either side and six on the top and bottom. Anywhere else the orange-red blinds with small white dots would have been considered ugly or horrendous, but here they seemed to work. They were pushed aside to let light in, the rays allowing dust to be seen floating around. The swarm of minuscule hairs and thick clouds of dust were disrupted when Cas walked by, all flowing around where the air was moved. There were red seats on black metal frames lined against the right and left wall for patients to sit in while they waited. A few paintings were hung up, mostly of nature but a couple of blueprints.

  
One painting showed a calm sea with a small wooden row boat bobbing in the center. The water was pastel and the sky was a light blue, sunlight reflecting off of ripples. The coast could be seen in the background, trees reduced to blobs of green paints of different shades. The sky looked clear and sunny, and warm.

 

Another painting hanging higher on the wall to the left of the other painting was displaying a red sky over a lake, with a thin blue strip against the horizon of the land. The lake seemed small from this view, but in reality it probably wouldn't be. The artist had painted a tilted aerial view, which provided for a beautiful scenery containing the entirety of the lake and its colors, as well as houses around the shore and land spreading for miles. Castiel wondered if it was a real place, and where that place might be.

 

A third frame held a set of blueprints. It hung directly to Castiel's right on the wall next to the private office door. Each line was a bold blue against white paper that looked aged. In larger blue font it read 'The Dwarfic'. The blueprints showed a smaller boat, likely a customized one, and provided detailed descriptions and measurements of each part of the boat. In the bottom left hand corner in thin black letters it read 'Hammelton's & Boats INC.'. Cas's eyes broke from the room's setup and looked to the other patients.

 

Across from him there was a woman bending down in her seat, head turned so she was just inches from her daughter's face. The child couldn't have been more than four or five years old, and she was rubbing a Hot Wheels car on a wooden block just long enough to provide as a strip of road. Her tongue was out in concentration but her eyes were bright and wide, just happy to be in possession of these toys. They came, Castiel noticed, from a small corner in the waiting room littered with toys that probably never got cleaned up. The woman was whispering to her child what at first seemed like discipline but her face broke into a smile when the daughter whispered- or what only could be considered a whisper scream combo, as kids do- and giggled. She bashed the two toys together, which got the mother to raise her hand on them and hold them together to prevent her from doing it again.

 

The noise startled the older woman beside her sitting in the same row but with an empty seat between them. She was holding a magazine on her crossed legs, and her head had looked over to the child, smiled softly, then back to the issue. She was actually quite beautiful, she had long silver hair tied up on her head in a messy sort of bun held together with a black hairclip. She was tall too, Castiel could tell by how she was much taller than the mother who sat beside her. The older woman wasn't elderly, probably in her mid to late 60s, but her silver hair looked like it had started early in her years. Castiel was looking closer and could see she was wearing thick mascara, which complemented her nicely, and as a background her eyeshadow was a light grey as though she did it to match her hair. Which, she probably did.

 

Castiel blinked when a woman with long, red hair and face stained in tears sniffled and walked out of the door to his right, and she walked past them in quick steps to Castiel's left and out the door to the parking lot. There wasn't much to go off of, but they didn't look like sad tears. Happy, joyful tears.

 

The woman stood up, grabbing her daughter's hand and pursuading the toys from her grip. The woman placed the wooden brick and small plastic car on the chair she had waited in, and then walked her daughter towards the door the crying woman had just come from. Shutting the heavy door behind her, there was a click of a lock and then a second door which Castiel could only guess led to the private office.

 

Castiel sat in absolute silence now that the clinking of toys and churning of cheap, plastic wheels was absent. The older woman coughed every now and then, clearing her throat afterwards. Cas laid his head back on the chair, staring up at the ceiling. It was white and had been made with arched swipes of paint creating a very wealthy vibe.

 

Cas must have dozed off because he was gently wakened by the older woman who had her hand on his shoulder.

 

"Sir?" She whispered. There was nobody else in the waiting room but them, so he didn't know why she was whispering still. They were in a therapist office, so she probably didn't want to accidentally set off some sort of mental illness she thought Castiel might have. "Sir, your meeting with Dr. Campbell." She still spoke softly.

 

"Hmm." Cas said opening his eyes after the first 'Sir', and he sat up. "Oh, oh yes thank you ma'am." He responded and she smiled, nodding, then straightening up and walking out of the building to her car. Castiel stood up, opening the door leading to the private office and letting it shut as he went for the second door. He let that shut as well, and was welcomed by a dim room. The window blinds were closed and there was only two desk lights keeping the room as lit as it was. There was a small desk with a computer and a tall filing cabinet in the far corner. The middle of the room provided a long, soft grey couch with a dark wood, rounded table at the end. Diagonally from the sofa was a matching grey loveseat. Its back was to Castiel, but as he got closer he saw that there was an older man sitting in it. He was wearing thin frame glasses and looking down at papers in his lap, writing down notes.

 

Castiel cleared his throat before advancing any more. "Dr. Campbell?"

 

The man's chair spun a little and he looked up at Castiel with a gentle smile. "Yes, son." He said, holding his pen out towards the sofa to motion Cas to sit. "Please, have a seat. Get comfortable." As Castiel moved around to the couch, the therapist spun his chair back to face him. Castiel took his trench coat off and hung it around the back of the couch. "If you'd like to lay down that is fine as well." He said when Castiel took a seat. Feeling obligated, Castiel laid back and let his head relax on the arm of the couch closest to the doctor, looking up at the ceiling. "So, Mr. Novak," Dr. Campbell started. "What seems to be troubling you?"

 

Castiel thought for a second, trying to put the reasons he came into words. "Well," He started, resting both his hands across his chest and crossing his ankles. Deep breath. "My spouse and I are planning to move to New York City this August."

 

"Mhm, that's a big trip." Dr. Campbell said after a couple seconds of silence, trying to push Cas along.

 

"Yes. I told my coworker, who is a close friend of mine, yesterday but she freaked out on me. She doesn't like my spouse."

 

"She doesn't like your wife? Is this a romantic interest, perhaps?"

 

"Uh, I doubt it. I have a husband, actually."

 

"Oh, my appologies." Dr. Campbell said, scribbling the words 'romantic??' out. "Go ahead."

 

"Well, she had a good reason to freak out I guess." Cas exhaled sharply, sitting up in the couch. He grabbed his trench coat and pulled out a white bottle of over-the-counter pain medication. "She found these and knows I'm addicted."

 

Dr. Campbell was staring at the bottle. He reached his hand out. "May I see it?" He asked, and Castiel placed the meds in his hand. He took it closer to his face and pushed the glasses back up the bridge of his nose to read. He scribbled down the brand, the type, and probably everything else. The only noise in the room for about a minute was the pen on paper. "How many do you have a day, usually?"

 

"One to two." Dr. Campbell nodded, writing that down.

 

"Son, too many of these over an extended period of time can cause kidney problems." Dr. Campbell said, setting the bottle of pills on the round table. "If you're in actual pain I suggest seeing a medical doctor as well and-"

 

"I'm not in pain anymore." Castiel cut him off. "Atleast, not really. I know that. But ever since-" He stopped himself, reordering words to put this as vague as possibly. "Ever since I got hurt, I've been taking them. They helped relieve the real pain and I was healed soon enough. I kept telling myself I had some sort of ache; head, back, wrist, leg. Just so I could keep taking them."

 

Campbell was writing quickly as he listened. "So you do not actually have these pains, then?"

 

"No. I don't. But I still can't stop taking them." Castiel said, eyes travelling down from the doctor's face to hands that wrote quick notes and abreviations.

 

"I'm going to keep these ones. Do you have more at home?"

 

"No." Castiel stated, but Campbell looked at him with disbelief. "I don't, really. I only keep one bottle at a time because I don't trust myself." Campbell nodded, looking down at his paper. Scribbles.

 

"So aside from an addiction to pain medications," He said, looking back up at Castiel. "Is there anything else I can help with?"

 

"Yes, the reason I came here is because of a reoccuring dream." Castiel folded his hands together and tucked them between his knees. "For years now I've been having this dream where Dean and I go to New York."

 

"Dean is your husband?"

 

"Yes."

 

"Very good. Go on."

 

"We are on a train going through the city, and after it stops at a hotel we can see a truck coming straight for us. It hits the train, and the train rolls twice before I wake up. Everyone dies in the crash." The scribbling of the pen was driving Castiel nuts, and he realized he had been digging his nails into his knuckles. Dr. Campbell looked up when he finished his notes.

 

"Dreams like these before big events are a sign of anxiety, they are very common. Your addiction may also be a result of this anxiety."

 

"That's it?"

 

"It's not insignificant. You have a lot of anxiety, it seems. Do you know why you would be nervous to move?"

 

"I mean I'm leaving everything I know. I'd be moving even father from my dad and aunt, moving away from Megan."

 

"Who is Megan?"

 

"Coworker."

 

"Ah. Is there any other serious problems you have? Perhaps a fight with your spouse recently, or trouble at work."

 

"Not recently, but Dean and I used to fight all the time."

 

"Did these fights get physical?"

 

Castiel smiled nervously. "They were always physical. I wasn't always hurt, but he'd get drunk and get angry."

 

"Has he seen therapy for this?"

 

"God no, he wouldn't be caught dead in this place." Cas laughed again. "But he stopped drinking a long time ago, and even though he's still suffering from the loss he isn't physical anymore- atleast not in a violent way." Castiel smiled, and the doctor laughed.

 

"That's good. So you're sure he isn't drinking anymore?"

 

"It was his move to actually stop. I helped him get rid of all his alcohol in the house, all his liquor. Everything."

 

"That's good. Very good." Dr. Campbell was still writing.

 

"Mhm."

 

Short silence.

 

"Although you haven't fought in a while, you could subconciously be nervous that it might start up again after a big change like this move." Campbell let his pen fall to the clipboard that was against his crossed legs.

 

"I highly doubt that. He and I got seriously injured in our last fight."

 

"Oh? How was that?"

 

"Stabbed him with a broken bottle after he beat the shit out of me." Cas was surprisingly blunt about it, which even made himself look back on what he had just said. He didn't take it back. Campbell was just staring. "Not on purspose, he lurched forward and I had grabbed a bottle to defend myself. He stepped on the bottle which cracked it in half." Silence. Campbell eventually retained the information and scribbled down notes.

 

"Did either of you file for domestic abuse?"

 

"Lawyer tried me, but I refused. I don't know if they ever offered to him, since I was seen as the victim in it."

 

"Why didn't you take it to court?"

 

"I didn't- don't want to press charges on him. I know he got in a blind fury because he found something I had held on to that showed the worst day of his life." Castiel buried his face in his hands, rubbing his eyes with his fingertips. He sat back up after a few seconds and returned eye contact to Campbell who was just waiting, listening. "I still have it, I don't think he knows that."

 

"What is it, exactly?"

 

"A newspaper."

 

"Okay." Campbell said, writing that down as well. "Would you mind telling me what is on it?"

 

"No." Castiel said, leaning back. "It's an old local newspaper that has a headline reading 'Man, Woman and 14 Year Old Son Killed in Tragic House Fire'."

 

"I remember that, just down the road from here. He knew them?"

 

"That was his parents and little brother."

 

Campbell had sympathetic eyes. "My condolences."

 

"Thank you." Cas lowered his.

 

This time the silence was awkward. Campbell was trying to find words to move along that didn't sound insensitive or rude. Castiel was just waiting for a response or direction.

 

"So he started drinking because of that?"

 

"Yes."

 

"And that is when your husband got abusive?"

 

"Yes."

Campbell nodded thoughtfully. "And you two have resolved this? No fighting since the stabbing?"

 

"Correct."

 

"Okay, so we can eliminate that then."

 

Castiel nodded.

 

"Well." Dr. Campbell said, turning his wrist over to look at the time on his watch. It was an expensive looking one, with a real leather band and what looked to be diamond incrested. Castiel's gaze was caught by the glinting that came from it. "Looks like our time is up. You will be back again, I hope." He said in more of a statement than question, and Castiel only nodded. He stood up and reached out his hand to the doctor.

 

"Thank you." He said, shaking his hand then turning to walk out. He pushed through both sets of doors, through the waiting room and past the front desk. Going around he grabbed the chained pen and signed out, then wrote the check for $250 and slid it across the counter to the lady. She thanked him and wished him luck, to which he smiled and left.

 

The drive home was hard. He couldn't focus on the road, much less the traffic, so he pulled over on the side and left his blinker on so people would pass.

 

"Fuck." He breathed out, already feeling the effects of not having a pill that day. It wasn't a heavy drug so there were no intense effects of detoxing but there was the mental need, a craving. The doctor had confiscated his only bottle. His fist banged on the steering wheel.

 

After the digital clock on the radio slowly made its way from 11:23 to 11:27, Castiel finally pulled back into traffic. He drove home, mind leaping in and out of intense thought. He tried to stave off the addiction's persuasion of going out and purchasing another bottle. He pulled into the driveway and ran inside, letting the front door slam behind him.

 

"How'd it go?" Dean asked, walking out of the bedroom to greet Cas.

 

Castiel didn't respond. Instead, he flung the fridge open and grabbed the slices of turkey, provolone, and hamburger pickles. Stacking them between two slices of bread, he nearly fell over from the satisfaction of eating. He'd picked at his breakfast this morning since Dean wasn't awake to cook.

 

"That good?" Dean said, walking up behind Castiel and putting a hand on either shoulder, rubbing his thumbs in circles on his shoulder blades.

 

"Just hungry." Castiel murmurred, and Dean strained to hear him. "Haven't eaten today." This time, Dean heard and nodded. Castiel turned around.

 

"You should go take a nap." Dean suggested. "We can do something later tonight, okay?"

 

"Okay." Castiel carried his sandwich over to their bedroom and set the plate down on the nightstand. He flopped on his back in bed, kicking the covers down then pulling them over him. His eyes began to sting as he realized how exhausted he really was.

 

\- - -

 

Dean walked into the bedroom to see if Castiel needed something to drink, but he was already fast asleep. Grabbing the plate, Dean carried the sandwich out to the kitchen and stuck it into the fridge. He grabbed himself a cup out of the cabinet, letting the fridge door slowly inch shut until the magnets found one another. He filled the cup with water, and gulped it down quickly. The cup fell out of his hands into the sink once it was empty, and Dean walked to his coat hanging on the rack and fished his keys from his pocket. Locking the front door behind him, Dean left Castiel to nap as he drove.

 

\- - -

 

The drive was about an hour. It was sunny out despite the cool frost of winter. It was losing to spring now as April approached quickly. He stopped at a liquor store, purchasing a small bottle of whiskey. He thanked the cashier, then got back into his car and continued on.

 

The dirt road Dean followed down led to a small clearing dotted in stones. He pulled into a small grass lot, and cut the engine.

 

Deep breaths.

 

Dean stepped out of the Impala, shutting the door behind him and leaning against it, arms flat against the top and head buried in them. He was breathing slowly, heavily, trying to calm himself. Moments passed before he stood up straight again.

 

"Well, here it goes." Dean spoke to himself, turning around and walking out to the clearing. Graves were lined in neat rows. Flags were planting into the ground next to those who had served in the military. Wilting flowers were placed at the foot of graves whose family and friends still visited. Dean slowly walked down the lines until he found a large headstone.

 

Dean's eyes heavily landed on the words. Across the top half, it read:

 

_IN LOVING MEMORY OF_

_JOHN WINCHESTER AND MARY WINCHESTER_

_1954-1998                   1954-1998_

_LOVING HUSBAND         LOVING WIFE_

_AND FATHER                 AND MOTHER_

 

There was a horizontal line going through the center, and below it read:

 

_SAMUEL WINCHESTER_

_1983-1998_

_LOVING SON AND BROTHER_

 

"Damn it, Sammy." Dean said as he squatted down, running his fingers lightly over the engraving. It was cold to the touch and resistant. The stone was mostly smooth, but where the letters dipped in was rough. "Such a bright future ahead of you, Sammy." Dean pulled the whiskey out of his coat pocket, unscrewed the cap, then dumped it in front of the grave. All of it. This was the first time he'd seen the gravestone, he'd refused to even stay at the funeral. He smiled lightly. "You'd be 17 now, you can drink." He laughed. "Atleast, I'd let you." Dean shook the bottle a bit, wanting to get every last drop out onto the soaked dirt. He screwed the cap back on and shoved the whiskey bottle in his coat pocket, slapping his hand affectionately on the grave and then slowly walked to his car. It was then that he realized he had been crying, tears moistening his cheeks. He wiped them away with his sleeve and ducked into the Impala.

 

The drive back seemed longer, but it was about the same. When Dean walked into the house, Castiel was sitting on the couch eating what looked like another sandwich.

 

"Hey." Dean said, voice soft and gravelly. Castiel looked up when the door opened.

  
"Where'd you go?"

 

"Oh, no where." Dean said, taking his coat off. When the coat bent wrong, the whiskey bottle fell from the pocket and crashed to the floor. It didn't break, so Dean bent down and picked it up, wiping it as though there would be dust on it.

 

"What is that?" Castiel asked. Dean realized then how it looked, and he tossed his coat on the rack. He walked over to Cas, who had put his plate down and was standing to confront Dean. He looked like he was trying to be patient, but about to go off on him.

 

"It's not what you think." Dean said, handing Castiel the bottle. Cas didn't raise a hand to take it, just stared down. Dean grabbed Cas's wrist and pulled his hand up, shoving the bottle into his palm and wrapping his fingers around it. "Look at me. Hey, look at me." Dean said, using his other hand to lift Castiel's chin. Their eyes met.

 

"Are you...?"

 

"No, no no. I went to see the grave."

 

"What grave?"

 

"You know..." Dean said, letting his hand fall to his side from Castiel's chin, the other one still holding Cas's hand around the bottle.

 

"But you said you'd never go."

 

"Well, I did. I wanted to before we moved out."

 

Castiel was silent.

 

"You are still up for moving, aren't you Cas?"

 

"Yes, yes."

 

"Good."

 

Silence, and Dean released the bottle. Castiel held it tight.

 

"So you drank at the grave?"

 

"No, Sammy did."

 

"What?"

  
"I dumped it."

 

"You spent money just to dump it out?"

 

"Yes." Was all Dean could respond with, and he gave a nervous grin. Castiel's face softened, but he didn't smile in return. Dean's faded.

 

"I'm going to bed." Was what Dean decided on, and he grabbed Castiel's head between his palms and pulled his head up to his lips, planting a kiss on his forehead. Castiel didn't move as Dean walked to the bedroom, collapsing in bed. He didn't fall asleep for about an hour and a half, just tossing and turning.

 

Castiel sat in the living room on the couch, holding the whiskey bottle in both hands. His eyes continuously scanned the printed letters on the bottle.

 


	15. The Road To Far

August waited on the branches, claws out and tail flicking in anticipation. Shoulders rolling. She was hungry, ready to attack on Dean and Castiel like a mother jaguar waiting on prey to pass by. And when she struck, the mark she left was deep and unsavory.

 

It was August 9th that Castiel saw Megan at work the on his last day. She was rushing him out the door after Dean called and said he had quit work at the exterminators and was ready to pack their luggage in his car. They'd saved up thousands upon thousands of dollars, managing to scrape every last penny off their paycheck into their savings. Bills were easy to pay, and their house went on the market almost immediately. It was taken off it, sold to a lovely elderly couple a few days after. They got the money in cash when the elderly couple explained they wanted to downsize and held out a wad of money at the transfer of paperwork. It was about $140,000 in cash, right into their pockets. Dean and Castiel were lucky a very wealthy couple had found the house. Their first few payments of rent would be a breeze as they found jobs.

 

"Call me any time you want." Castiel said as Megan was shoving him out the doors laughing. She'd come around to the idea of them moving after Cas insisted she meet and talk to Dean. She ended up loving him now, but Castiel knew deep down she'd never forgive him for what he'd done to him.

 

"If I don't respond four days after a call-"

 

"Yeah yeah yeah! I'll come crashing through your door as your mama unicorn. GO!" She yelled, their coworkers forming a small goodbye crowd behind her. Megan waved and Castiel ran out to his car, backing up into the parking lot as he waved back. When his heel found the edge of the sidewalk he whirled around and walked quickly to his car, basically falling into it as his whole body was shaking with excitement.

 

The drive home was cut almost in half as Cas sped through the busy streets, navigating through traffic seamlessly until he heard the familiar crunch of his driveway under the wheels- the last time he'd hear that.

 

Dean was in the driveway at the Impala, heaving heavy suitcases into its trunk and the back seats. Castiel got out of his car, hitting his head on the top. His hand went up and rubbed the spot, but his mind was too busy to pout. The keys jingled in his pocket as he ran around to Dean, helping push a suitcase into a fitting place in the trunk's small area.

  
"We can call a moving service. Take a huge truck up there." Cas suggested for the 500th time.

 

"No, absolutely not. I'm bringing the Impala, no ifs, ands or buts." Dean grunted as he shut the trunk. Castiel smiled, slapping Dean's ass as he walked past him.

 

"How about just two buts?" He said, and Dean chuckled wholeheartedly.

 

"I think I can deal with that."

 

Once they finished packing, Dean got into the Impala and started the engine. Castiel went to his car, and followed Dean to Bobby's Body Shop, where he used to work. It was a Tuesday, so it was open. The drive was roughly 23 minutes. Castiel pulled up to the side of the garage, and Dean right behind him. Castiel cut the engine, gripping the keys tightly as he got out and walked into the garage. Dean stayed in his car, letting the engine run so the air conditioner would keep him cool against summer heat.

 

"Bobby?" Castiel called out, and he saw a man in the corner office turn around, hold his arm up and wave his hand a bit to signal Cas over. Castiel made a bee-line for him around the tables and tools, carefully watching where he stepped so he didn't slip in oil. Walking through the doorway, he stood a couple feet away from Bobby. Bobby spun in his chair, then stood up and shook Cas's hand.

 

"How can I help you?" Bobby asked.

 

"We called about a week ago about selling, I'm here with the car." Castiel said, handing the key over to Bobby. Bobby smiled.

 

"She'll be put to good use, son." He said, grabbing a checkbook. He made it out to Castiel Novak, and put the price $12,300 on it. Bobby ripped the note off after signing it and handed it to Cas.

 

"Thank you." Cas smiled, reading the price. They'd gotten more money over the past couple of days than they could have imagined having all at once.

 

A quarter of a million, Castiel thought for a split second. That thought didn't leave him, but instead just got surpressed while he shook Bobby's hand again then climbed into the passenger seat of the Impala.

 

\- - -

 

They hit the road at 8:30 PM after quitting their jobs and selling the car. Dean turned the radio on to a classic rock station while Cas laid his head down, curling up as comfortably as he could in the passenger seat. Castiel didn't fall asleep, but instead watch the landscape out of his window, head against the glass and ears drumming as one was pressed up against the car.

 

The road was busy up through to Kansas City, the trip only being half an hour there.

 

Moving through Kansas City, Dean pulled over at 9:34 to a small building. The sign outside read 'Comfort Inn', and Castiel followed Dean out of the car. Dean locked the Impala behind him and led Castiel up through the front door, pushing it behind him so Cas could catch the door and hold it open as he made his way through. They walked up to the counter, and the man standing at the desk smiled.

 

"Do you have a reservation?"

 

"No, just dropping in."

 

"Alright. License number?"

 

"KAZ-2Y5, the black Chevy Impala."

 

"Okay." The man nodded, writing that information down on a form. He then looked up to the computer tucked into the corner facing him, and typed away at the keyboard. About 20 seconds went by and he pressed enter, and something printed out. He grabbed a plastic card with a magnetic strip, and slid it through a machine. "Okay," He repeated. "Here's your room key for tonight, it'll be deactivated at 9AM tomorrow morning. Room 14B, top floor. Elevators are to your left. Breakfast starts at 7."

 

"Thank you." Dean smiled. Castiel followed Dean to the stairwell, and tiredly walked up the long flight of steps. Dean looked at the room numbers they had landed on, and the first one he saw read 28B. They quietly walked down the hallway until they found 14B and Dean slid the card through the digital lock. It flashed a red light. Dean swiped again. Green light and click, and Dean turned the handle down and pushed the door open. The room was cleaned up well, two single beds with a nightstand between them. A flatscreen was hanging above a dresser between the feet of the beds.

 

They didn't bother changing out of their clothes, instead they just got into their beds and under the sheets. Dean fell asleep quickly, but Castiel was restless. He kicked the covers off when he got too hot, and bundled under them when he got too cold. Eventually Cas was laying on the small single bed with half his body under a blanket, the other out, one leg hanging off the side in an awkward position.

 

"Dean?" He whispered. There was rustling of blankets in response as he stirred, but nothing more.

 

"Dean." Castiel said slightly louder.

 

"What?" Dean's voice was obviously tired, but it was about 2 AM and Cas couldn't sleep.

 

"I can't sleep." He said in the most childish voice he could muster.

 

"What?" Dean said again, and the direct moonlight outlined his figure so Cas could see he was rubbing his eyes with fists.

 

"I can't sleep." Cas repeated.

 

"What do you want me to do about it?" Dean said, rolling over to face Castiel. Basic details could be made out on his face from where Cas was laying, such as placement of his eyes, nose and mouth.

 

"I don't know." Cas felt defeated, but turned his body so he was on his side and facing Dean. They strained their eyes to see one another. "I think I'm just not use to sleeping alone anymore." He pouted.

 

"Cas, the bed barely fits me."

 

"I know."

  
It was quiet except for the strong winds howling outside. The blinds to the window were broken so they slanted down letting the moonlight in. The moon could be see from where Dean was, a bright blue signal in the sky. The room had become a blue box, the shadows covering all color while the reflection of light off the moon made everything a washed out blue. It was calming, actually.

 

"Come here." Dean groaned, sliding so his one hip was lined up with the edge. They'd have to squeeze together, but he was prepared for that. Hopefully, throughout the night, they didn't end up on the floor. Dean saw as Castiel hesitated, but did kicked the covers off and stand. He felt around the bed so he didn't walk into the hard frame, following the edge around to the side closest to the door. He crawled on the covers, then slid under them and wrapped them up around his shoulders. Dean turned carefully towards him, inching closer so he wasn't on the edge anymore. His arms went down to Cas's waist, hand sliding under his shirt and pressing against his belly. A few minutes went by, and Cas was asleep.

 

 _What a baby_ , Dean thought as he moved his chin so his face was half buried into Cas's shoulder, and he shut his eyes.

 

\- - -

Feel Like Makin' Love by Straight Shooter blasted through the hotel room at 6:40 AM and shot Dean out of bed. He reached to shut the alarm off his phone, but leaned too far and slid off the bed, landing on his ass on the carpeted floor. The sun was bright and high in the summer sky, and the wind seemed to have died down. "Ahh..." Dean winced, using his hands to help him push up to stand. "Damn it."

 

Castiel was sitting up holding his head in one hand and massaging his temple between his index and thumb. "Mmmm..." He moaned out, collapsing back in bed. "What time is it?"

 

"6:40 AM." Dean said once the song cut off after he clicked the 'Dismiss' button. "20 minutes 'til breakfast, and then we hit the road. Long trip ahead of us." The grin was toothy and cute when Castiel stared up at him, and Dean back down to him. Castiel didn't move nearly quick enough, Dean decided, so he walked around to his side, grabbed his hands and pulled him out of bed. Once Castiel was standing his hands went down and grabbed his hips, pulling Cas into a kiss.

 

"You still want to go, right?" Dean asked, holding his forehead against Castiel's as he spoke. "No second thoughts coming through?"

 

"None." Castiel smiled.

 

"Now," Dean said, taking a step back and swinging their hands side to side together. "What can we do for 20 minutes?" His grin was suggestive and wolfish.

 

Castiel only rolled his eyes, letting go of Dean's hands and playfully shoving his chest. "Dean," He laughed. "I'm too tired."

 

"Alright, alright." Dean laughed back. They just stared at each other for a long while. A minute and a half of staring at each other and Dean grabbed Cas's head in his hands, leaning down a bit into a kiss. Castiel responded, letting Dean worm his tongue into his mouth, exploring the edges of his teeth and his own tongue. Their eyes had closed instantly when they came together.

 

Dean was excited, Castiel could tell. Not just by his buldge- but because he pushed Castiel back against the wall next to the bed, and his hands when down to his hips. They wrapped around Cas's back, down to his ass where Dean squeezed his cheeks. Castiel smiled into the kiss, and Dean took that as a green light.

 

Castiel's hands were gripping Dean's shoulders now, pulling him as close to him as possible. Dean lifted Cas up the wall, and his hands slid down Cas's thighs to support him. He pressed his waist to the wall so it held Castiel up. Cas wrapped his legs around Dean's hips.

 

Cas's head slammed back against the wall and his voice was breathy. "Fuck me." It was somwhere between a plea and and order. Dean just smiled as his teeth found Cas's neck, then his tongue cooled the area and felt around the imprints of his teeth he left. After he marked Castiel as his own, his hands started working at the buttons on Cas's shirt. Damn these dress shirts, the thought boomed in his head as he fought with the buttons. Cas's hands were massaging roughly into his shoulder blades and sometimes he could feel Cas's nails try to dig, but then receed. The buttons were undone quickly, and Dean pulled the shirt up over his head as Cas's arms raised up to allow the removal. Cas threw the shirt aside, and his head found the wall again as Dean's lips worked down his shoulder and collar bone. Dean's frisky hands were already working at Cas's belt, which was not a tough obstacle as it was undone and his pants were being lowered in seconds- along with his boxers. Dean stepped back, dropping into a kneel as he slid Castiel's pants down his ankles. Castiel helped by toeing them off and kicking the pants aside. The belt jingled in response.

Dean stayed on his knees, looking up at Castiel. As green held onto blue, Dean's hand worked around Cas's shaft. Cas was biting his lower lip already, and when he felt Dean's touch on him he gasped out. Dean smiled, moving his mouth closer to Cas's erection and ran his tongue along the tip. After a couple licks, Dean's mouth slowly and comfortably took Castiel half way in, and he felt the precome lather the back of his tongue. Castiel was moaning lightly, and Dean joined him to encourage him to be more vocal.

 

Dean's hand started slowly twisting around and pumping, and his lips tightened around as his head followed the rhythim his hand set. Castiel was muttering jibberish, crossing curses and Dean's name, and pleas to take him there. Dean could feel Castiel throbbing in his grip, and Cas was resisting all urge to take charge.

 

The urge overtook quickly, and Castiel's hand fell down to grab a handful of Dean's messied blond hair, thrusting into his mouth. They were both grunting now, Castiel more than Dean, but Dean could feel his pants wet with his own pre.

 

Castiel was gentle with Dean, making sure not to injure him, but still worked Dean's mouth so he was now taking all of him, his tip edging further and further down Dean's throat.

 

Castiel's sweet spot was hit, and he felt the orgasm nearing. He was moaning louder now, and Dean's hand worked quicker.

 

Dean's mouth was filled with come, the salty sensation dripping throughout his mouth. Strings of come and saliva stretched from Dean's lips to Castiel's length when he pulled out, then broke and fell down coating Dean's lips. Castiel fell down to his knees catching his breath, pulling Dean's jacket back over his shoulders and letting it drop aside, then pulled his shirt up off him adding it to the pile. Next was the jeans, then socks, then boxers.

 

They locked lips again, and Castiel reached down and grabbed Dean's hard on. Dean gasped against Castiel's lips, and Cas delicately pulled Dean's bottom lip with his teeth. They didn't exchange words but Dean moaned loudly, being the more vocal one during sex.

 

Castiel's hand moved slowly at first, his hand becoming slick. Each time his hand moved up Dean's shaft, he ran his thumb over his slit and Dean twitched in his palm. They moaned into each other's mouths, eyes closed. Cas quickened, working at Dean.

 

Dean was quick to come, his nails digging into Castiel's mid back as he did. Castiel's thighs became coated as Dean spilled out, and he slid his hand slowly down Dean's shaft, raising his fingers to his mouth and licking them clean. Dean took Castiel's index finger in his mouth, eyes closed as his tongue wrapped around it.

 

They fell into each other, chests heaving and panting. Castiel was the first to stand, and helped Dean up. They held each other close, gently kissing now.

 

"Let's get some breakfast." Dean said through their lips, and Castiel smiled. Their eyes met and sparks went off. After four years together, that same chemistry that bubbled over was still just as exciting and fresh as when they had first fallen in love with each other. Their anniversary had been just three days earlier, and they'd gone out to a fancy restaurant. Today, though, it felt truly celebrated. They were moving together, and enjoying the trip as they went along.

 

They cleaned up both themselves and the hotel room, getting dressed and washing what stains they could.

 

"Dean, wait." Castiel said, walking up to him. He used his thumb to wipe across the corner of Dean's mouth. Cas smiled, and Dean did too.

 

Dean and Castiel walked down the flight of stairs and to the front desk, handing in the room card. The small cafeteria area was just in front of the desk, so they walked over and grabbed some pancakes to slide into the toaster. They each had two, stacking them on paper plates then sitting across from one another at one of the small round tables. The bottle of maple syrup was in the center and Dean grabbed it first, drizzling it over his pancakes. He used a plastic fork to cut up the pancakes, shoveling them into his mouth.

 

Castiel, on the other hand, cut his pancakes up first and slid the pieces to the side. He poured a generous puddle of syrup on the side and dipped the pieces in one or two at a time, eating at a much slower pace than Dean was.

 

Dean was the first to finish his food and stood up, throwing the plate and fork away. He grabbed two disposable cups and filled them with coffee, putting in the correct amount of cream and sugar for Castiel but keeping his black. He brought the cups over after grabbing the plastic sticks to stir with.

 

"Thank you." Castiel said, raising his hand to cover his mouth full of pancake as he spoke. He swallowed the pancakes, then washed it all down with the coffee. Once they had both finished their coffee in silence, they threw the cups away and walked out to the car.

 

The clock on the radio read 7:29. Dean turned the key once they were both settled into their seats and Dean had buckled up, Cas was still in that process. The engine came to life, and Dean pulled out once Castiel's seat belt had clicked into place. Dean turned the radio on and found a station playing rock, and he sang along to it.

 

He had a great voice when he tried. It was somehow both soft and dominant.

 

This was not one of those times.

 

Castiel cringed as Dean lazily sang along, purposefully hitting the wrong notes and the wrong times. Dean knew it drove Cas crazy, and Castiel smacked Dean's arm.

 

"Pleaseee." Castiel groaned, and Dean just sang worse, and louder.

 

That summed up the remaining two and a half hours. Castiel tried every position he could fathom to fall asleep, but nothing worked. Dean sang to the songs he knew, and accidentally sang good to one. That was the only peace Castiel got during the ride- the rest, Dean was messing with him and laughing. At one point, Cas had drifted into a light sleep and Dean swerved to car roughly. Castiel jerked away.

 

"What the fuck??" Castiel whined, punching Dean in the shoulder.

 

"Oww!" Dean fake protested, matching Castiel's tone.

 

Castiel just groaned in response, and started to drift off when Dean went off the road slightly and hit the ridges. The car vibrated harshly, and Castiel made a noise so it shook along with it. Dean laughed.

  
"Don't fall asleep on me now!" Dean said, getting back onto the smoother road. It looked newly paved.

 

"Why not?" Castiel rubbed his eyes, then used his elbows to push himself off the door and sit up.

 

"If you leave me alone I'll go crazy."  
  


Cas rolled his eyes and sighed. "Fine. But only if you stop singing like a banshee."

 

"Deal."

 

Dean sang in his actual voice until there was a huge sign on the side of the road reading 'Welcome To Columbia, Misouri'. Castiel looked at the clock; 9:15.

 

"We're making good time." Dean said, and Castiel nodded. "About an hour and a half to Saint Charles, then we can make a stop and eat lunch."

 

"Sounds good." Cas said. He dozed off, but this time Dean let him sleep.

 

\- - -

 

At 11:36 Dean pulled into the parking lot of Nuby's Steakhouse. He shut the engine off, shoved the keys in his pocket, then shook Castiel awake.

 

"Let's eat." He said, then stood out of the car. Castiel stretched, unbuckled, and slammed the door behind him. They walked up to the front door together, and Dean swung the door open for Castiel. "M'lady." He said, pretending to tip his hat. Castiel just rolled his eyes and laughed. Dean followed him through, letting the door shut behind him.

 

"Welcome!" A woman behind the counter said after the bell attatched to the door rang. "How can I help you gentlemen?"

  
"Just breaking off a long trip for lunch." Dean said, and she led them to a booth. They sat down and she handed them both a menu.

 

"Oh really?" She asked, pulling out a pen and notepad. "Where ya'll from?"

 

"Lawrence, Kansas." Castiel answered, opening the menu.

 

"Long trip indeed." She answered, ready to write. "Can I get ya'll started on drinks?"

 

"I'll take an iced tea." Castiel said.

 

"Lemon or raspberry?"

  
"Lemon."  
  


"Alrighty," She said, writing the order down. "And for you dear?"

 

"Root beer, please." Dean smiled up at her, and she nodded slowly while she wrote.

 

"I'll be right out with them." She left them with the menus, and headed into the kitchen.

 

Dean looked around. The place was somewhat busy, a few tables filled up here and there. From the outside it looked like a corner bar- run down, no illuminated sign except the one reading 'OPEN' at the window. The inside looked a lot nicer though. The tables were a light wood edged in metal, either squared or rounded depending on if you were at a booth or not. The booths were covered in a fake burgandy leather material fastened to a wood that matched the tables. The walls were creamish colored, and there were a few taxidermied animal heads around the walls.

 

"Where to next?" Castiel's voice snapped Dean back.

 

"Indianapolis."

 

"How long until that?"

 

"Four hours."

 

Castiel groaned, flipping another page of the menu. He set it down on the table when he found what he wanted. Dean had already decided.

 

"It'll be fun, I promise." Dean grinned, rereading over his choice.

 

The waitress was back, carrying a cup in either hand. "Root beer," She said, placing the glass in front of Dean.

 

"Thank you." Dean said, and grabbed the glass. His skin became cold and wet from the icy condensation from the summer heat.

 

"Mhm. And a lemon iced tea for you, darlin'." She placed the second glass in front of Castiel.

 

"Thanks." He said, grabbing a straw from the stand and slamming one end on the table so the top broke through the paper, then pulled the paper cover off and dropped the straw in, stirring around slightly.

 

"Mhm." She said again. "Now, what'll ya'll have to eat?"

 

Dean and Castiel made eye contact to see who would order first. Dean started. "I'll have your One Pound Swiss Bacon Burger."

 

"And for a side?"

 

"Fries, please."

 

The waitress nodded, scribbling. After a couple seconds she looked over to Cas. "And you, hun?"

 

"Your One Pound Bleu Cheese Burger, please," Castiel said, setting his menu onto Dean's and dropping them against the table twice so they lined up neatly, and handing them out to the waitress. She tucked them under her arm. "With a side of fries as well."

 

"Alrighty," She said, clicking the back of the pen against her notepad and smiling. "I'll be back." She returned to the kitchen in swift steps to hand the order in to the chefs.

 

Dean watched through the window where you could see the chefs moving around the kitchen, frying and grilling and everything. It was a pretty big kitchen, the workers filling the building with sounds of metal clinking, dishes being washed, and loud talking- not quite screaming or yelling, just people talking over the sounds to one another.

 

"When do you think we'll be in New York?" Castiel asked, and Dean turned to stare back at him.

 

"Oh," He said. "My best guess is around noon tomorrow."

 

Castiel nodded. "Do we go straight to the apartment, or are we booking a hotel room?"

 

"Straight to the apartment, the realtor should meet us there by noonish or one."

 

"Okay."

 

"Then all we have to do is file the paperwork with them, pay the money forward and on top of that the first month's rent."

 

Cas nodded.

 

"Then it's ours." Dean smiled, drinking his soda. Castiel's lips were tightened around the straw, sucking up the iced tea. Ice cubes jingled gently in Dean's glass.

 

They talked more, and the waitress came back balancing two plates on each hand.

 

"Bleu Cheese Burger for you," She said, setting the plate down gently in front of Castiel, who had moved his drink aside. He thanked her. It smelled wonderful. The burger was off center, top bun off, steamy and crispy fries filling half the plate. A small carton of ranch dressing was up against the burger as well.

 

"And Swiss Bacon." Dean thanked her as she set it down, copying Castiel's move of setting the drink of out the way. His meal was set up in the same way- top bun off, carton of ranch, sea of fries wrapped around it. "Looks delicious." He said, and she nodded and smiled.

 

"It is." She winked. "Let me know when you want the bill." Dean nodded, and she left them to eat.

 

Castiel poured the ranch over the burger, then set the flimsy plastic lid in it and set the carton aside. Dean slid his ranch across to him, and Cas used it as well. He squished the top bun on next, picked it up, and sank his teeth into it. A palette of flavors filled his mouth- from the juicy and tender beef to the melted bleu cheese and the coating of ranch. The bun was sweet, complementing the burger nicely.

 

Dean's was just as good. The beef was flavorful, lightly peppered swiss cheese wrapped around the top half and melted down. It danced in his mouth, the flavors mixing together nicely.

 

They finished their burgers and fries, washed it down with their drinks, and Dean raised his hand to signal the waitress over. She brought the bill.

 

"How was it?"

 

"Absolutely delicious." Castiel said, and Dean agreed. He took the bill and slid his credit card in the pocket. She took the card to swipe. The total came out to $27.45, and Dean signed and fished a five out of his wallet to give her for tip. The waitress thanked him, and they got up and left when she took their dishes away. They slipped into the bathroom, then started walking out the door.

  
"Enjoy your trip!" She called back to them.

 

"We will, thank you!" Dean said after opening the door and letting Castiel walk through, the bell chiming loud in their ears. They walked out to the Impala, sitting in and getting hit with a wave of heat. The seats were hot to the touch, and the belts even hotter. Quickly clipping themselves in, Dean started the car and drove.

 

They drove twenty minutes out and Dean took an exit that pointed towards Vandalia Lake. At 12:30 they pulled into a grassy parking area.

  
"What are we doing?" Castiel asked, looking around. It was a very green area, the lake was edged with thick brush and tall trees.

 

"I thought we could use a walk around." Dean said, and they got out of the car. They made a bee line for the dip in the land where the ground went to meet the water, making their way down the steepish decline.

 

Dean sat down at the edge and slipped out of his shoes and socks, dipping his toes into the water. It was warm as the sun beat down on the surface and into the depths. It was a greenish blue, slightly murky looking lake. Ripples spread out when a bug landed or a fish jumped. Cas plopped down beside Dean, keeping his shoes on. There was an older man with a line cast into the lake. The pole was propped up in his chair, probably tied somehow, and he had his head back snoring. Something tugged at the line, but then it was still again.

 

Dean took his jacket off. Castiel's hand went to grab the necklace that was dangling, cupping the pendant in his palm. "You're wearing it?" He asked, looking back up to Dean. His face showed a mix of surprise, curiosity, and joy.

 

"Yeah." Dean replied with an awkward jump in his voice. "Is that so weird?"

 

"Yes." Castiel said. "I didn't think it would ever see the light of day."

 

"Hmm." Dean hummed, smiling as he held Castiel's gaze. Cas released the pendant, something of an exotic god's head, and let it fall back to Dean's chest. Cas's eyes went down to Dean's lips, flickering back up to his eyes, then quickly down to his lips. Cas leaned in, eyes shutting, and pressed closed lips to Dean's. They opened, allowed Dean's tongue to shy inside- it darted in between his lips, gently pressing at his teeth for entrance. Cas parted them more, and Dean's tongue twirled with Cas's, exploring over his tastebuds just as much as the smooth underside. What was overpowering, though, was the starchy taste of the fries and hamburger bun Castiel had just eaten as well as the sugar from the tea. His mouth watered more, taking in the flavors.

 

"HEY!" A voice shouted, pulling the two apart. Dean looked to his right and Cas turned himself around, facing the source of the noise. The man who was fishing had woken up, and was working at the tie that held his pole to the chair. While his fingers worked, he had looked up to Dean and Castiel. He looked angry, frustrated. "Coul' one ah yous help me out 'ere?" The thick accent made them think for a second on what he had said, and after a couple seconds of translation Castiel was the one to stand up and walk over to see what the problem was. "I can't seem ta get this here pole aff my chair." He was an older gentlemen, no less than sixty.

 

"Sure." Castiel said, squatting down to where there was a tightly knotted strip of yarn holding the rod up. There was another one holding the grip onto the leg of the chair, and once he had managed to undo the top string he started working at the bottom one. The line dipped a bit, then there was a strong pull on it. Castiel didn't think he'd seen a human move as fast as the man, who was standing up and knocked Cas back when he picked up the rod. It was still tied to the chair at the bottm, but the man didn't seem to mind because he had the lawn chair dangling by the rod and was somehow rheeling the line in, yanking here and there to make sure the hook wasn't swallowed. The bobber bounced under the surface and was the first thing to break through. What followed was a carp about a foot and a half in length. Castiel was balancing in a crab stance with his legs bent in front of him and hands behind him flat on the ground. He pushed up and stood as the man shook the rod, sliding it from the last tie.

 

"What a beaut!" The man said, grabbing the line a couple inches from the fish. The hook had gone through its lip, and the situation looked incredibly painful. He pulled out a pocket knife and cut the line so there was about seven or eight inches to hold onto. The carp flopped in the air trying to find water. He worked quickly, gently wiggling the hook and pulling it out of the fish's mouth. He had a bucket to the side of him and he tossed the carp into it, letting it dry out and suffocate. It wasn't his first catch- there was three other smaller fish in the bucket as well. The man turned to Castiel. "Thank ya, sonny."

 

"Oh, no problem. Glad to help, and good catch." Castiel smiled politely.

 

"What kinda accent is that?"

 

"Uhm, we're driving up from Lawrence, Kansas. But I never picked up that accent, I was raised by parents from up North."

 

"I see. What're you folks here for?"

 

"Just passing through. We're in the process of moving to New York City."

 

"Oh, really? Beautiful place." The man said, his back now to Castiel as he was bending over the bucket to examine his prizes. His crack was showing a bit from pants that were just a little too big in size. Castiel noticed and quickly averted his eyes. Dean walked up behind him, nudging him slightly and grinning like a child. Cas silently punched him. The man stood back up, hands finding his belt and pulling his pants back in place. He turned, and his eyes fell on Dean. "Well, hello." He said, standing forward and shoving a hand at Dean. Dean accepted, shaking it.

 

"Hey," Dean said, putting an arm around Cas who was just awkwardly standing there. "Saw your catch."

 

"Oh yeah?" The man smiled.

 

"Yeah, quite a good one."

 

"You two fish?" Castiel shook his head, but Dean did the so-so motion with his hand.

 

"Use to when I was little with my dad and brother, stopped in high school." He explained and the man nodded, moving his hands to his hips and looking towards the lake, then back to Dean. "You know, I've always considered becoming a fisherman when I retire." He grinned and the man nodded, smiling happily. "I'd get to relax, and still get to kill somethin'." They both laughed, but Castiel was entranced by the water. Its colors and movement had dragged his attention away from the conversation.

 

A young girl, about twelve, in a pale pink tank top and white shorts walked up carrying what looked like a tool box. She smiled at Dean and Castiel, handing the box to the man. "Thank ya, sweetie." He said, setting the box on the chair. "This is my daughta', Connie." The man said, bringing her into a one-armed hug and rubbing her shoulder. She waved shyly.

 

"Dean." He waved, dropping his other arm behind Cas's back. The loss of pressure brought Castiel back to what was happening.

 

"Castiel." He smiled. The man and girl gave him a strange look. "My mother was very religious." He explained.

 

"And a hippie." Dean toyed with him, laughing. "I mean, her name was Nature."

 

"And a hippie." Castiel laughed while he repeated him. They all laughed.

 

"Well, we should hit the road. Long trip." Dean said, and the fisherman nodded.

 

"Have a good trip, and enjoy New York. And thanks for the help." He said to Castiel, who smiled and nodded in response.

 

"Thank you." Dean said, and Castiel followed him back to the car after waving them off. They got into the hot car, quickly buckling so their fingers didn't burn off.

 

"Indianapolis?" Castiel asked, though he very well knew the answer to that.

 

"Indianapolis." Dean verified, backing out of the grass parking space and onto the dirt road. He got back on the highway, weaving his way into traffic. Castiel leaned against the door soaking up the warmth the sun had made while Dean turned on the AC and flipped through the stations. One started playing light rock but went fuzzy, so he turned off the whole thing. They drove in silence, and Castiel dozed off.

 

\- - -

 

The sun glinted off the rear view window of the Impala, and the reflected light went straight into Castiel's eyes. He was woken up by it, and moved his head while groaning so he could see. His gaze went out the window to see if he could tell where they were, but the view hadn't changed much. They were still on a highway, surrounded by traffic. He sat up, and Dean looked to him then back to the road.

 

"Afternoon, sleepy head." Dean said, moving an arm so he could prop his head up against the car door and use the other hand on the wheel. Castiel yawned and looked to the clock. 3:08.

 

"How long until Indianapolis?"

 

"About 40 minutes."

 

"I was out for three hours?" Castiel asked, eyebrows pushing together in confusion. It hadn't felt like a three hour nap, but Dean nodded. Cas reached down to the radio and turned the dial, skimming through each station. It was mostly religious or country, two of his least favorite genres. There was a talk show going through politics. He managed to find one playing modern songs, but Dean just groaned. "Alright, alright." Cas said, continuing the search. He found a station playing classic rock with slight fuzz. Keeping a hand on the dial, Cas looked over to Dean on whether he should keep it on or not.

 

"That's good." Dean said, bobbing his head along to it. He began singing- badly.

  
Why must he know the words, Castiel said, letting his head fall back against the seat. That was how the next half an hour passed- bad singing and heavy eyes. Dean tapped Castiel's shoulder, and Cas opened his eyes and followed where Dean was pointing to. A sign reading 'Indianapolis, IN- Next 2 miles' was in bold print on the side of the highway, and Dean moved to the right lane to follow it. It took about three minutes to make the trip, and a sign reading 'Welcome to Indianapolis' was hanging above the road, bolted to the metal archway. The clock read 3:45.

 

"Next place- Columbus, Ohio." Dean said, accelorating slightly.

 

The drive to Columbus seemed way shorter than it actually was. About three hours there, feeling like one. That was probably due to Dean singing away the time until the radio went fuzzy, and Castiel nodding off again.

 

This time he woke up to screeching brakes. He gasped, throwing his hands forward as though he were stopping himself from falling. Dean's arm had instinctively gone to the side to stop Castiel from falling forward. "Sorry, sorry." Dean muttered, the hood of the Impala just inches from the truck in front of them. "There was an accident up here, and this lane just suddenly halted."

 

"Jesus Christ." Castiel said, regaining his head and relaxing into the seat.

 

"I know. I know." Dean said, sitting up more rigidly now. He rolled down his window and hung out to see around the truck. It was a long traffic jam, and he could see police cars blocking off an area. The move was quick though- they were directed around the crash site. Horns were blaring as some slowed to see what had happened, but most of the drivers weren't having that so they moved them along with annoying honks and frustrated cursing or screaming. Within a few minutes the traffic had loosened up and they were going 70 again, making up for lost time.

 

At 6:20 the sign saying 'Welcome to Columbia' appeared, and Castiel sighed. "Are we stopping somewhere or do we keep going?"

  
"We're booked for a Holiday Inn in Harrisburg at midnight tonight for one night, so we keep going."

 

"Midnight?" Castiel asked. "Why so late?"

 

"From here to Harrisburg is about five and a half hours."

 

Cas groaned. He hated long car rides. Not because they made him car sick, he just found cars to be confining, especially for so many hours. Dean just patted his knee, squeezing it slightly which made Castiel squirm. "Just go back to sleep." Dean loved car rides, he made them fun for himself. He moved his hand from Cas's knee to the radio and turned it on.

 

Castiel stared out the window for a while, watching cars go by. The cars thinned out to trees and mountain backgrounds. It rained. The sky turned a dark grey around 8:00, making the sky look darker than it usually was this time in the summer. The rain came down as a light sprinkle at first, dotting the windows in raindrops. It didn't take long to become a heavy thunderstorm though. The windows became hard to see through, Dean turned up the wiper speed but it didn't help much. Not for Castiel at least, but Dean must have been able to see enough because he didn't pull over to wait. They continued driving, and somewhere along the way Castiel fell asleep again. Dean noticed, and let him be, reaching for the radio and turning it on a low volume. He searched through the stations until he found another rock one, letting it play softly under the pitter-patter of the rain against the car's thin metal.

 

At 11:50 PM Dean pulled into the parking lot of the Holiday Inn he had reserved a night for. He let Castiel sleep as he walked out into the cool darkness. The rain relented, still pouring down on him. There was a person on night shift running the desk. "Hello." They said as Dean walked up, drenched. "Do you have a reservation?"

 

"Yes, under Winchester."

 

"Dean and Castiel?"

 

"That's correct."

 

"Okay." The woman typed on the keyboard and handed him an envelope. "Room keys, they will deactivate after tomorrow at 8. Breakfast is at seven." She smiled, and Dean took the envelope.

 

"Thank you." He said, and left out to the car to wake up Castiel. He opened Cas's door. "Hey, babe." He said, shaking Cas awake. Cas's eyes opened to darkness, adjusting after a few seconds.

 

"Hmm..." He said tiredly, his brain picking up speed to figure out what was going on.

 

"We'ere at the hotel, come on."

 

"Mhm." Castiel mustered, unbuckling and standing out of the car. Dean locked the Impala, and led Castiel in by holding onto his arm so he didn't fall over. Castiel was half awake at best.

 

The bright lights of the main lobby caused Castiel's eyes to ache, so Dean quickly pushed him down the hall to the elevators. Pressing the button that was a triangle pointing up, they waiting until the doors opened and stepped inside. Dean pressed the button for the third floor and the doors closed, then the elevator took them up. Castiel was leaning against Dean, eyes closed and head tilted down so he was leaning on Dean's shoulder.

 

"Alright, Cas, just a bit more walking." Dean said, supporting Castiel's heavy and tired body as they walked quietly down the hallway. Dean's eyes looked for room 317, and once he found it he swiped the card through the reader. It worked on the first try. A green light and a click let them in the room, which was clean and smelled freshened. There was one large bed so they could sleep together. Dean put Castiel right in front of the door after it shut. "Stay put." He said and walked into the bathroom, grabbing two bath towels. He ran it through Cas's dark hair, drying him off down to his legs as much as possible. He dried himself off with the second towel.

 

"Thanks." Cas yawned, then crawled into the bed and shivered beneath the covers. Dean joined him, and they fell asleep in each other's arms as they fed off of the other's heat.

 

\- - -

 

AC/DC woke them up at 7:00 the next morning, and Dean shot out of bed and quickly hit the 'Dismiss' button. The room looked much different when daylight poured in. It was the usual cream room with dark wood tables and a hanging TV.

 

"Come on." Dean said, shaking Cas's leg as he tied his boots back on.

 

"Mm." Cas muffled into the pillow, face planted in it.

 

"Let's go eat. We're getting to New York today."

 

At those words, Castiel was out of bed and awake. "Yay!" He smiled, rushing to the door. Dean followed after him quickly, grabbing the envelope and cards. They rode the elevator down to the lobby and Dean turned the keys in.

 

Castiel heated up waffles and coffee, making sure to leave Dean's black. Dean was already sitting at a table so Cas just put the plates and cup down.

 

They ate silently, adding syrup drizzels or sides to the waffles and taking coffee down with it. Castiel felt refreshed, while Dean was clearly tired.

 

"Do you want me to drive for a bit?" Castiel asked, stirring the thin plastic straw in his coffee.

 

"Yeah, that sounds good actually." Dean said. It was clear he was tired, there were heavy bags under his eyes. He needed more sleep before he could operate a vehicle again.

 

"Okay." Castiel said.

 

They cleaned up their plates and left the Inn, Castiel taking the driver's seat now. They got settled in and Castiel turned on the radio to a station playing modern hits. Dean made a disgusted face, but Castiel just smiled. "What's rule number one?" He asked, and Dean made the same noise a defeated child would. "Oh, now you won't say it because I'm right this time?"

 

After hesitation and a sigh, Dean muttered the words.

 

"I didn't hear that." Castiel teased.

 

"DRIVER PICKS THE MUSIC, SHOTGUN SHUTS HIS CAKEHOLE." Dean yelled, punching Castiel in his shoulder. Cas just laughed and turned up the volume.

 

"Damn right!" He yelled over the music, pulling out of the parking lot and maneuvering onto the highway. He followed the map Dean had pulled out for him. Dean was out in roughly ten minutes, snoring away soundly. Cas lowered the volume to let him sleep. There wasn't much left of the trip. Dean had gotten them through the rougher parts, that being from Saint Charles, through Indianapolis to Columbia. Castiel just had to get from Columbia to Allentown right now, which was an hour and twenty minutes away.

 

It felt like five minutes compared to the other segments of the trip. In basically no time the word 'Allentown' was on multiple signs, leading Castiel up the state of Pennsylvania. They arrived in Allentown at 9:00 AM, and Dean didn't stir awake at all. Cas kept on trucking along. The next destination was New York City, and after an hour and twenty minutes it was in view.

 

"Dean, look!" He said excitedly, smacking Dean's arm repeatedly until he woke up.

 

"What?" Dean was groggy, but he brightened up when the scrapers and towers came into view. It was a magnificent skyline. "Holy shit." He said in obvious awe. "Todo, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore." Castiel punched him for the probably butchered reference. It was a horizon of silver and glass, light bouncing in different directions to create the spectrum of colors to cast outwards in all directions if you looked at it at the right angles. The buildings dwarfed the mansions in Kansas. Traffic picked up intensely as people rushed to work. The roads were heavily populated by taxis and public buses as Castiel entered the city. After looking around like tourists, slowly making their way through the busy streets, Castiel spoke up.

 

"Where's our apartment?"

 

"Twenty-first and seventh." Dean responded in a slow voice, ducking his head down to see past the car's roof.

 

Mapping out the grid that was New York City, Castiel eventually found the place. It was a huge tower with a garage on the bottom floor. Castiel pulled into it, parking in an available space. They both got out of the car and looked around, then caught each other's glances. Cas grinned first, and Dean followed. They ran at each other and Castiel jumped up, Dean holding him close and spinning as Cas's legs bent back, Dean's face against Castiel's shoulder. It was like a movie. The experience seemed surreal, as though they were in a dream.

  
"Pinch me." Castiel said when Dean put him back on his feet.

 

"What?"

 

"I said pinch me. Make sure I'm not dreaming." Castiel said, and Dean did. Cas jumped back. "Good." From his experience with dreams of New York City, that was the last thing he wanted to be in.

 

\- - -

 

Their apartment was on the thirteenth story, and the door was unlocked. A woman stood inside, papers spread out on the table. She looked up when they walked in, their eyes wide and scanning the area.

 

"You must be Dean and Castiel." She said, a fake smile plastered on her face as she held out her hand first to Castiel. Castiel shook it, then Dean did.

 

"That's us." Cas said with a heavy breath.

 

"How was the drive up?" She asked, leading them over to the kitchen with a wave. The table was layered in paperwork. Most of it had already been something they'd signed, but set out so they could review it and make sure they knew exactly what they were agreeing to. They sat down beside one another, and the realtor remained standing beside them.

 

"Long, but great." Dean responded, still looking around. The apartment was very spacious, much more than you'd think through pictures. Windows went across the walls allowing a lot of sunlight in and acting like a greenhouse, heat being trapped inside. The curtains, which were a beautiful cream color, were opened for the presentation. There were a few potted plants around, obviously plastic but aesthetically pleasing to the eye. The furniture was mostly white, some rimmed with more of an eggshell color. The walls were eggshell as well. The apartment was an 'L' shape. The living room and kitchen made up the lengthier part, and dividing the bedroom from the living room was a door. The bathroom took up a corner of the bedroom.

 

The paperwork took up the first two hours they had stepped foot in their apartment, and by the end of it they were down about $12,000. The realtor left after going over their signatures and everything in between.

 

At last they were alone, in their new apartment, sitting in silence at the table. The clock hands were at 3:37 PM. Castiel was gently rubbing the table top with his fingers, not sure what to do with himself.

 

"I need a job." Dean broke the silence with a sigh. He tapped his hands flat against the table in a half-assed drumroll, then pushed the chair backwards with his legs as he stood. They had internet now, and Dean had purchased them a laptop with that in mind. It was in the trunk with their stuff. He walked out of the apartment and to the elevator. It dinged open and he hit the button for the ground level. The elevator was fast- in about 6 seconds they were down to ground level and Dean stepped out once the doors slid open, walking through the empty hallway and out the front door. The Impala was still in the garage, so he walked around to the side of the building to it. Fishing the keys from his pocket, Dean unlocked the car and opened the trunk. It unclicked and popped up a little, so Dean raised it up all the way. He pulled suitcases out, and the box with the laptop was in the back corner.

 

Castiel appeared behind him, grabbing two of the wheeled suitcases and extending the handles. He rolled them off while Dean carried a shoulder bag and the laptop behind him. They left the trunk open, and rode up the elevator back to their apartment.

 

Cas unpacked on the bed, organizing their clothes and putting them accordingly in the dresser drawers and the closet. The dresser was mostly filled up, each of them having two drawers for their clothes and the closet looked barren. A few shirts hung, and two suits- One in Castiel's size, and the other in Dean's. _We'll need more suits,_ Castiel pondered as he folded a pair of pants and tucked them into a drawer, topping off the last one.

 

Dean was in the living room, laptop opened and plugged in on the white corner desk when Castiel came back out. The shoulder bag was tossed on the floor beside him. Cas grabbed the bag and hauled it to the bedroom to unpack. The closet looked more full and lived in by that point. He went to stow away the bag, but something slid inside it to the lowered end. Opening the top zipper back up, Castiel went to look. The box of memories was sitting at the bottom.

 

"I didn't grab this," He said aloud but to himself.

 

"I did." Dean said. When Castiel looked up, Dean was leaning in the doorway looking at him. "I thought you'd like to bring atleast one thing from our past here." He was wearing a shy smirk, hopeful that Cas would accept it.

 

He did. Castiel smiled, shaking the box lightly. The sound of papers scraping together and the stack of pictures being tossed around inside was audible but quiet. "Thank you." Castiel said, turning and sliding it in the closet on the floor. It was tucked behind a pair of black dress shoes.

 

"I found a job application in one of the offices around here. Nothing big, just a starter. I'd be an assistant. Taking calls, getting coffee. That sort of thing." Dean said, not excited about the job but still clearly wanting to take it. "It wouldn't be that high of a pay, but if I worked up the ladder..."

 

"Do what you like. Don't just do it for money, we'll make it." Castiel said now turned towards Dean. He walked up to him, wrapping his arms up around his neck and stealing a kiss. It was sweet and refreshing, and he could've sworn for a moment it was like they were in high school all over again. If only.

 

"Okay." Dean smiled. He kissed him back, hands traveling down Castiel's side and to his waist. "I'll fill it out and send it in."

 

Cas pulled his head back and smiled, eyes looking down to his lips. "Okay."

 

\- - -

 

Dean attatched an updated and revised version of his resume to the application before sending it back in. It was about 6:30 when he had finished. "Hopefully they'll get back to me soon." Dean said, standing up from the laptop. "Your turn to browse."

 

"Oh joy." Castiel sat in the chair at the desk, opening the browser. "Where do I start?"

 

"I dunno," Dean said. "Just search up 'Jobs in New York'. That's what I did."

 

"I could be a landscaper for a rich family. They pay big too, I hear." Castiel said in a very monotone voice as he focused on what he was reading.

 

"Sure." Dean said. By the time Castiel had suggested that job Dean was sitting on the couch watching TV, mouth full of popcorn.

 

"Okay." Castiel said, sitting up as he prepared himself for updating his resume. That process took roughly an hour and a half as he edited it. He added onto experience. In all honesty he probably didn't need to update his resume for a landscaping job, but maybe the family would hire him for multiple jobs if they knew he could do them.

 

By 9:50 PM Dean was asleep in bed. He was exhausted from the drive and the long day. Castiel shut the laptop down and closed the lid, standing up and walking to the bedroom. He changed into the thinnest pajamas he could find and wrapped up in the sheets beside Dean.

 

"We did it." Dean smiled tiredly down at him. Cas's head was wrapped inside Dean's arm, being held close against his chest.

 

"We did it." Castiel echoed as the city's lights fought with the think curtains to pass but weren't able to succeed, causing a dim yellow outline around the cream curtains and dark blue cascading over the furniture and walls otherwise.

 


	16. Reemployment

Castiel's landscaping job was about five minutes out of the city at a huge house. The family was rich and owned an old brick mansion that had been developed into a more modern house. It kept its older feel as well with the brick finish and chandeliers, as well as rustic looking furniture.

 

There was a high iron fence around the large property with a secured gate that required a passcode to enter. A keypad glimmered and blinded Castiel for a second to grab his attention. Had it not been for the reflection, he may have never noticed it. He looked down at the papers he had printed for the job. At the top of the second page there was a short summary explaining the keypad.

 

_...if you get the job, we will give you the passcode. For now, there is a red button on the bottom left of it. Call in as landscape applicant._

 

Hesitantly, Castiel pressed the button accordingly. He waited, and there was the sound of a speaker being turned on. It screeched for a second, then tapping.

 

“Hold the button down to talk.” An old voice boomed as static finished his statement. Cas held down the button.

 

“Uhh, I'm here for the landscaping job.” Castiel was unsure whether he had done it correctly since the man didn't respond and seemed to have shut off the speaker. Cas raised his hand again to repeat himself, but before he had the chance the gate clicked and swung open once the magnet released. Castiel walked forward, shutting the gate behind him. The driveway was long and paved, trees hiding the house from view of the road. Otherwise the yard was fairly bland, aside from the incredibly green grass and matured trees. Once Castiel wound around the driveway the house came into sight. In person, the house was magnificent. The picture at the top didn't do it justice in any way, and didn't capture the true size of it.

 

The front porch came into sight first. It was roofed with brown angled panels and at the outer corner sat brick pillars holding the roof up. Around eyelevel were fancy porch lights casting weak shadows of the pillars they hung on. Sheer curtains could be seen through the half opened windows from the porch, illuminated by peach and purple in the dawn sky. Castiel realized he had just been staring and shook his head to bring himself back to his head. He raised a hand and knocked against the door.

 

Quick footsteps went through the house, the sound of high heels clicking. The door was opened slightly, then all the way to reveal the inside of the house and who looked to be a maid. She was in the outfit, her petite and fragile looking form looking even smaller behind the door. “Yes?” She asked.

 

“I'm uh,” Castiel said, looking down at the papers then handing them towards her. “Here for the landscaping job.”

 

She nodded and scampered off to find the ownder of the house, or atleast one of them. The maid returned in sight and waved him inside, looking behind him as she peeped out the door then shut it. Castiel was greeted by a grand staircase against the wall to his left. To his right, a huge television hanging over a stone fireplace caught his sight. In front of the fireplace was an oval coffee table set up with coasters and magazines. The couches connected in an 'L' shape and were an off-white shade, skirted around the bottom with wood beneath the cloth on the arms. The back raised into spirals.

 

“You are here for the landscaping job?” A beautiful red-headed woman was walking down the stairs. She resided in a long, tight salmon dress that was incrested around the scarfed collar. Its sleeves covered her shoulders.

 

“This is Mrs. Knight.” The maid said, smiling. “She and her husband are going out to a lunch later, so they will see if you should be hired before they leave.”

 

“Thank you, Ruby.” The woman said, and the little blonde nodded and left.

 

Castiel's eyes drifted from Mrs. Knight to who was now named Ruby, to the living room. The mix of modern and traditional worked beautifully.

 

“So, what is your name?” Mrs. Knight asked, walking over to the couch. She sat down and patted the seat beside her. Castiel followed obediently, sitting exactly where she had asked of him.

 

“Castiel,” He answered, breaking eye contact briefly to look at the papers he had been clutching tight enough to wrinkle. He loosened his grip to try and seem less nervous than he actually was.

 

“Castiel.” Mrs. Knight repeated to him, the name rolling off her tongue in a pleasantly soft whistle. “What a beautiful name. Where is it from?”

 

“Thank you.” Castiel smiled lightly. “It's a version of an angel's name, my parents were very religious.”

 

“They have passed?”

 

“Uh, just my mother. My dad is still alive.”

 

“My condolences.” Mrs. Knight had put her hand on his to show her appologies. She removed it after a few seconds.

 

“Thank you.”

 

“You grew up in the city?” Mrs. Knight asked after an extended moment of silence to get back on track.

  
“Actually, we just moved up and settled in here yesterday. Drove up from Lawrence.”

 

“Kansas?” She asked. “That is a long way from home.”

 

“Yes it is.” Castiel said. “The city is beautiful though. I've never seen such huge towers in my life.” He laughed and she did as well.

 

“Well, welcome then. I was born and raised here myself.” Mrs. Knight had a bright smile as she talked, trying to make a good first impression. She was succeeding.

 

“Uh, Mrs. Knight,” Castiel said, but she shook her head. “Hmm?”

 

“So formal, I don't like it. I tried to tell Ruby that but she insists on calling me that because of our differences in background. Money and all.” She said, talking wildly with her hands. She took a deep breath after the fast talking. “Call me Abbadon, please.”

  
“Abbadon?” Castiel laughed slightly at the irony between his name and hers.

 

“Yes,” She groaned. “My dad was- actually, still is, in a rock band.”

 

“Oh cool.”

 

“I suppose so.”

 

“What are they called?”

 

“Nights of Hell.” Abbadon rolled her eyes, laughing.

 

Castiel chuckled, then they fell into silence. Steps coming down the staircase behind them brough their heads around. Abbadon looked past Castiel, and Cas turned around fully. A tall man in a well fit grey suit appeared, going around the railing of the stair case and walking towards the couch. He was doing his tie as he came down and Abbadon stood, wlaking over to him and fixing it so it looked straight and tidy. She pecked his lips and smiled, then turned and put her hand out to motion towards Castiel.

 

“This is Castiel, he came for the landscaping job we put out.”

 

The man walked towards him and looked Castiel up and down with a confused expression. “You have latin background?” He asked. Cas opened his mouth but couldn't muster the words to respond. Abbadon was in the background with a hand covering her face and shaking her head.

 

“Uh, no sir.” Castiel said, a bit taken back at the question.

 

“Oh.” He answered, crossing his arms.

 

“I'm sorry, he doesn't realize when he's being racist.” Abbadon said, putting a hand on each of his shoulders and rubbing them.

 

“Racist?” Azazel asked.

 

“Go make yourself some coffee dear,” Abbadon said and he nodded. “Try not to hurt yourself.” He frowned, then sauntered to the kitchen to do as he was told. Abbadon sighed and spoke once he was out of earshot. “Sorry again,” She shook her head and her arms instinctively crossed her arms beneath her breasts. “He's socially inept.”

 

Castiel smiled shyly.

 

“Oh, I'll have him print out your resume and such so we can have a copy while we ask you about what you'd like to see and can do in the job.” Abbadon said, excusing herself and walking out of the kitchen.

 

“Alright.” Castiel said. Once she was gone he sat on the couch. On the coffee table, he saw, there was a bowl of individually wrapped chocolates. They had Ferrero written on the wrapper, so Castiel grabbed one, unwrapped it, and popped it in his mouth. The outter shell was crunchy with nuts sprinkled on the chocolate coat. It moved around his mouth and over his tongue. His teeth sank through the shell. It cracked apart and a liquid filling poured out and around his mouth to his surprise. It was a Nutella filling, a hazelnut and chocolate spread that made his salivary glands explode. He crumpled the wrapper in his hand and leaned back making sure to wipe his lips clean. The wrapper was shoved into his jean pocket alongside his keys.

 

Abbadon returned a few minutes later with a handful of papers. The application was on top, and the resume peaked from behind.

 

“Azazel, honey,” Abbadon called out, and the man in the grey walked out of the kitchen with a coffee cup in hand stirring gently with a silver spoon. He tasted some from the spoon, then made a refreshing gasp.

 

“Yes?” He asked, walking over to Abbadon. She held out the papers for him, and Azazel grabbed them to look over. After a few seconds of contemplating them, he nodded and passed them back. “Let's get started then.” He sat two cushions down from Castiel, knees against the sofa so he was facing him. Abbadon sat between them, holding the papers flat down against her lap. The dress ran down to her calves, which were cleanly shaved and smooth.

 

“So, Castiel,” Abbadon spoke, her bright red lipstick quite pleasing to watch. Her lips were smooth and matte. Cas looked up to her, nodding. “What brought you to this job?”

 

Cas took a few moments to respond, thinking of a good answer. “Well, as I told you earlier, we just moved here yesterday. I saw this job opportunity after my h-” He stopped shortly, rushing to pick up the sentence so the break wasn't noticable to them. Abbadon raised an eyebrow and Azazel had stopped stirring. “...ouse-mate found a job.” The clinking of spoon against mug resumed, and Abbadon nodded understandingly. “I'd love to work here.”

 

“Do you have a background in garden work?” Abbadon asked.

 

“Yes. My mother was what you'd call a hippie, so we use to have greenery all over the house. Not all the plants were legal, but what can you do.” Cas grinned, laughing nervously. Abbadon smiled. “When she passed, my dad just let it all die and threw them out. But I always helped out caring for the plants.”

 

“Very good.” Abbadon was still smiling lightly, looking down at the paper she had and then back up to Castiel. “What hours would you like to have?”

 

“I'm very flexible.” Castiel answered. “Weekdays and weekends work for me. Maybe something like ten to three on weekdays plus Saturday, and Sundays off?” Cas offered. Abbdon nodded and smiled.

 

“You're so easy.” Abbadon giggled, noting the times. “That's perfect. And salary?”

 

“Whatever you're comfortable with.

 

“Does 15 an hour sound good?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Great.” Abbadon clicked the pen and set it down against the papers. “You're hired. We'll give you a budget and you can go grab what you need from the stores.”

 

“Thank you.” Castiel smiled. Azazel had been drinking his coffee while they talked, more of an on-looker than decision maker.

 

“You're welcome.”

 

\- - -

 

Castiel drove to the plaza with a budget of $3000 in his pocket. He had taken a taxi to the mansion, and they lended him a pick up truck so he could strap things in and bring them back. It'd be his work vehicle.

 

Wheelbarrow, check.

Sprinkler system, check.

Hoses, check.

Gardening gloves, check.

Work boots, check.

Hedgetrimmers, check.

Spade, check.

Shovel, check.

Bucket, check.

Planting pots, check.

Flat walkway stones, check.

In ground lights, check.

 

The tools chalked up to $512.65 all around. Next, Castiel went to the plant section. There were hanging plants, basket plants, bushes, flowers, perannuals, and so much more. For the front of the house Castiel grabbed decorative flowers and bushes, a couple hanging plants to put on the porch. In the backyard, he mapped in his head, is where he would put the crop plants. He grabbed a couple packets of seeds, but mostly what he bought was midling plants. Tomatoes, carrots, pumpkins, potatoes, corn, and many, many more.

 

The total came out to $967.95.

 

\- - -

 

Castiel drove the truck back to the Knight's mansion, parking in the back lawn. He hauled all the supplies out to the small shed that was up against the back of the house. It was dusty and unkept, so he asked for a broom and cleaning supplies.

 

From 10:00 AM to 2:50 PM Cas cleaned out the shed, removing all the cobwebs and sawdust, minor molds and an opossum carcass that had been picked at by birds and bugs. Holding it by the tail, Castiel scrunched his face as he flung it into the forest that edged the back yard. With that gone, the shed had become a useable storage facility.

 

On the front porch Castiel hung up two hanging plants, one filled with pink and purple flowers and the other golden. By the door he set a basket of flowers varying from pink to blue to yellow. A row of decorative flowers were planted in the soil in front of the porch's edge that could be seen when someone pulled into the driveway.

 

Moving around to the back yard, Castiel set the flat rocks in place to create a beautifully crafted pathway leading from the back door to the shed door with a forking pathway leading in a loop that connected back to the original pathway. Along the edges about every 7 feet he hooked up an in ground light, bright yellow casting upwards and lighting the stones. The wires ran underground, which he used a shovel to dig shallow tunnels so he could link underground wires back to the electrical box. Packing the dirt back over the wires, Castiel was breathing heavily from all the physical strain. He pulled his phone out of his back pocket and turned it on to look at the time. 7:29. He sighed and dialed Dean.

 

_Ring. Ring._

 

“Hello?” Dean's familiar gruff voice answered.

 

“Hey, I'll be working late tonight. I want to finish planting everything before I leave.”

 

“Okay, I'll have dinner ready for you. What time do you think you'll be home?”

 

“Probably eleven or midnight.”

 

“Okay. Have fun. Love you.”  
  
“Love you too, Dean.”

 

_Click._

 

With a content smile plastered on his face, Castiel got back to packing the dirt in. Once that was finished and he had done his best at making the ground look untouched by adjusting the grass, he got to work on digging out holes to plant the crops.

 

The tomato plants he rigged up with stakes so they could be held up, same with the grape vines so they could climb. The carrots and potatoes were planted in rows beside one another with about a foot of space between them.

 

The corn stalks took up the most room, and he dedicated a huge amount of land to them. They were each about his height or taller, thin and stable. The pumpkins were planted up against where the shed and house met, making an 'L' shape with them.

 

By 11:13, Castiel was putting away the tools. He'd finished planting the crops and hooks up hoses to the sprinklers. Those he set on a timer to go off at 7:00 AM every morning.

 

Cas called a cab to pick him up, the strong magnet of the iron gate locking behind him after he checked out. The drive back to the apartment was quiet aside from the music the driver was playing. The August heat didn't stand a chance against the blasting AC unit that sent shivers down Cas's limbs every once in a while. At 11:45 Castiel was unlocking the apartment door. Dean was on the couch watching a TV show on the huge flatscreen hanging up.

 

 

Cas walked in, tossing his trench coat on the back of the couch and leaning over to kiss Dean on the cheek.

 

“Guwg,” Dean said through a mouth full of popcorn. He had a handful ready to follow up with, chewing away at the buttery and salty fluff.Castiel just shook his head and laughed, rubbing his hands on Dean's shoulders for a second and then standing back up.

 

“What'd you make for dinner?”

 

Dean gulped down the popcorn, shoving the prepared handful in. “Pathta 'n meballths.” More chewing. Castiel saw the pot on the stove that was covered in a glass lid. A toothed ladel was on a towel beside it. Castiel removed a bowl from the cupboards above the stove and carefully set the lid aside, grabbed the ladel, then filled the bowl with spaghetti and meatballs. He added tomato sauce on top, then parmesan cheese on top. Cas pulled open a drawer and grabbed a fork, slid the drawer shut, then joined Dean on the couch and spun the spaghetti on the fork and shoveled it into his mouth.

 

“Wha're we waping?” Castiel's cheeks were stuffed.

 

“Dr. Sexy, MD.”

 

“Okay.”

 

\- - -

  
It was probably about 1 AM when they finally went to bed. Castiel cleaned the dishes up as Dean took a shower, and they joined one another beneath the thin sheets as the summer's heat and fall's chill took turns filling their room. As the night grew, the colder the room felt. That didn't seem to matter though, as they were wrapped in one another's arms.

 

\- - - **Earlier that day, Dean's job.**

 

Dean got to the offices around 8:30 AM, and rode the elevator to the 22nd floor. The ride took roughly 5 seconds, and Dean could feel himself get a bit motion sick. He swallowed it back down though, and stepped out of the elevator into the office space. Men and women were dressed in suits, all walking around quickly. It was loud, but not from people yelling, just from the amount of people talking all at once. Employees were giving instructions, making appointments, taking and directing calls. It reminded Dean a lot of the cafeteria in high school when everyone was talking.

 

Making his way through the crowds, he was stopped by an important looking woman in a strikingly unfitting jacket and pants in this environment. She had dark skin and curly black hair, with gorgeously brown eyes that held Dean's attention. Her brown jacket complemented her wonderfully, bringing out the white in her eyes.

 

“Who are you?” She asked, looking Dean up and down.

 

“I, uh-” Dean studdered, caught off guard with the question. “Dean Winchester. I'm here to apply as an assistant, I'm here to meet,” Dean trailed off as he shuffled through the papers he held looking for the name. “...uh...” She was waiting patiently, and her arms had crossed in minor irritation. “Tod Ralenti.”

 

“He's in a meeting right now, but I can let him know you're here. Did you send in an application already?”

 

“I did. Yesterday.”

 

“Okay.” She said, and led Dean down a hallway. The second door on the left read 'RALENTI' in silver writing against a black tag. She opened the door and there was talking happening, and when Dean saw past the woman the man he assumed was Tod was on a cord phone that sat by his computer. He looked up and excused himself from the call and hung up.

 

“What can I do for you, Bobbie?” He asked, the chair turning a bit and wheeling backwards as he leaned back and smiled up at her.

 

“I have a Dean Winchester here for a job application. Says he sent one in yesterday.”

 

Ralenti leaned back to his computer and clicked away. When he found what he was looking for after a few long seconds, he made an 'mhmm' noise and nodded. “I have it right here. Send him in.” He looked back up.

 

The woman, referred to as Bobbie, stepped to the side and Dean walked through.

 

“Take a seat.” Ralenti said, motioning towards the a chair that faced him across the desk. Dean did as he was told, and Bobbie shut the door and left. “So, Mr. Winchester,” Ralenti started. His eyes went to the computer screen then back to Dean. “You are interested in an assistant job here?”

 

“That's correct.”

 

“And what made you apply here?”

 

“Well I just moved up from Lawrence yesterday and needed a job, and after a long search I found this position open and jumped at the opportunity.”

 

“Lawrence? As in Kansas?”

 

“Yes sir.”

 

Ralenti had fast food laid out in front of him and he picked up his burger, taking a large bite and nodding as he chewed. He raised a napkin to his face, wiping off a bit of Ketchup that was on the corner of his mouth. It was silent as he ate, and Dean wasn't sure where to look. He went back and forth between his hands, Tod, and the room. There was a lot going on.

 

His hands were on either side of a thin stack of papers, holding it against his lap. His thumbs were nervously rubbing up and down in short strokes.

 

Tod had a prominent nose, was the first thing Dean noticed about him. His eyes were dark and a bit sunken, skin pale and thin. All his facial features were very defined under tightened flesh, his hgih cheek bones marked with cheeks that went inward. He looked sickly, in some angles, and perfectly healthy in others. His hair was thin and black. He wore a dark black suit with a white undershirt from what Dean could see above the desk. A dark grey tie was done neatly around his collar and hung outwards from him leaning over his food and the yellow paper beneath it.

 

The room was simplistic looking, but had decorations you'd never expect to see in an office building. A huge scythe was hung right behind him across three secured horizontal poles, amongst an assortment of other strange weaponry and tools that covered the walls. They were surprisingly aesthetically pleasing, something one wouldn't dream of calling weaponry. Aside from the weapons there was a window that covered the far wall giving a gorgeous outlook on the city. There was dark grey or black chairs against walls, a white sofa with a glass coffee table by the window, and where Dean sat was at a white desk with a desktop computer at the corner. The keyboard had been moved aside to make room for his fast food break. The phone was on the other side of the monitor.

 

“So,” Ralenti said after washing that bite down with a slurp of his drink. “When will you start?”

 

“Today, if possible.”

 

“That can be arranged.” Ralenti started clicking away, and made a phone call to somebody.

 

“My secretary, Tessa, will show you aroung the offices so you get to know the place. She'll be your boss for today, try not to upset her. She has a short fuse.” Ralenti smiled, and his dark eyes somehow shined.

 

“I'll do my best.” Dean laughed along.

 

“Good.” Ralenti took a smaller bite of his burger, followed by another sip of soda.

 

More silence as he ate and Dean waited. Before he knew it, there was a knock at the thick wooden door behind him.

 

“Come in.” Ralenti called.

 

A woman in a knee-length black skirt and black high heels, as well as a white button up top opened the door. Her hair was shoulder length and black, and she had sharp eyes.

 

“Tessa,” Ralenti introduced Dean, holding an open hand out towards Dean to motion to him. “This is Mr. Dean Winchester. He'll be your assistant for today, he was just hired. If you could show him around?”

 

“Sure.” Tessa said, and nodded her head for Dean to follow. He did, and the door shut in place behind him as he left Ralenti's personal office to enter the larger area of cubicals. “This is where all the secretaries work. They each work for someone different. I, as you know, work for Tod.” They walked quickly through the crowded offices, her clicking heels keeping Dean's attention. “This is where I work.” She said as they approached an empty cubical. There were pictures of family and friends all over the wall area that had been covered in cork board. A little blonde girl who looked as though she were in the hospital with tubes going up her nose and in her arms. She was still smiling. Dean must have been staring at it long enough for her to realize. “She was my neice,” Tessa said.

 

“I'm sorry for your loss.” Dean said, looking back to her. He was a bit embarrased to have been staring.

 

“Thank you.” Tessa said. Her voice was quiet, somber. She stood back up straight and smiled to change the subject. “I'll show you to the break room.”

 

Dean hurried behind her, pushing through other people. The break room was just as full of people, but there was kitchen appliances lining the wall. Three microwaves, a fridge and freezer, two coffee makers, and a water tank with a tube of paper cups attatched to the side. There was a flat screen hanging in the corner on the opposite side of the room, and on the wall facing out was windows from ceiling to floor. It showed the city from a different angle than shown in Ralenti's office. In the center of the room was a large white table and black chairs surrounding it. People were sitting and standing, talking to one another as a news channel acted just as noise or a conversation starter. Everyone was holding either coffee or breakfast, or both.

 

\- - -

 

The day in the office seemed to go by too fast for Dean. Before he knew it it was 6:30 and he was driving home in his Impala after successfully appeasing Tessa, Bobbie and Ralenti multiple times throughout the day. His actual job was to be an assistant to anybody who needed it- whether it be to run for food, coffee, to the copier or printer, or to cover a shift and redirect calls.

 

He was happy to get home, and collapsed on the couch to nap. At 7:29 he was startled away by his phone ringing. The caller ID said Castiel.

 

“Hello?” Dean asked, rubbing his eyes with one hand to wake himself up and hold a conversation.

 

“Hey, I'll be working late tonight. I want to finish planting everything before I leave.” Castiel said from the other line. He sounded tired, but determined.

 

Dean sighed in exhaustion, eyes trying to focus and become accustomed to the lights he had left on. “Okay, I'll have dinner ready for you. What time do you think you'll be home?”

 

“Probably eleven or midnight.”

 

“Okay. Have fun. Love you.”  
  
“Love you too, Dean.”

 

_Click._

 

Dean fell back asleep, but woke up around 9. He stood up, stretching his arms out high and wide and yawning. Dragging himself over to the pantry he grabbed a box of spaghetti noodles. He boiled water, then dumped them in and salted it up. Next he started on meatballs, grabbing a bag of frozen ones from the freezer and dropping some in. On a third burner he heat up some tomato paste.

 

At 10:24 he had combined all of it into one pot and took a sharing. Not a lot, since he had eaten throughout the day on his errands, but enough to satisfy him for the night. He covered the rest with a glass lid that steam up quickly, so he shifted it so there was a gap to let the heat out.

 

Dean walked back to the coffee table by the couch and grabbed the remote, turning the flatscreen on. He flipped through the channels and landed on Dr. Sexy, MD. “Score.” He said, returning to the kitchen. He unfolded a bag of popcorn and put it in the microwave for two minutes, waiting until it beeped as he watched the show at an awkward side angle from the kitchen. The glare on the screen blocked more than half of the picture, and the volume was too low to really here.

 

The microwave beeped and Dean pulled the bag out, dumping its contents into a large bowl and finding his seat on the couch. He shoveled the popcorn into his mouth with his hands. The episode ended and a new one played. The door behind him unlocked and a trench coat appeared on the couch beside him. A kiss was planted on his cheek, and he smiled.

 

“How was work?” Castiel asked.

 

“Guwg,” Dean said through a mouthful of popcorn, digging his hand back into the bowl for more to replace when he swallows. He heard Castiel laugh, then felt a pressure on his shoulders for a split second as Castiel rubbed them, using them to push himself back up and stand.

 

“What'd you make for dinner?”

 

“Pathta 'n meballths.” Dean spoke after stuffing his face again.

 

“Wha're we waping?” Is what Dean heard next after Castiel had grabbed a bowl of pasta and sat beside him, their legs comfortably overlapping. Cas's mouth was stuffed with noodles.

 

“Dr. Sexy, MD.” Dean swallowed before he spoke this time.

 

“Okay.”

 

The hours seemed to fly by as they quietly watched the show. Soon it was 1 AM and Dean felt his eyes becoming heavy again. He turned the TV off and Castiel took the popcorn bowl to wash. Dean went to the bathroom and ran a hot shower. The steam only made him more tired, and he fell into bed once he got out and dried off. Castiel turned off lights behind him and crawled in beside Dean as cool and warm air circulated through the room, and they tangled each other in limbs as they fell asleep.

 


	17. It's Kinda Like Theatre Dinner

The date 8/19 read at the bottom right hand side of the computer screen. August 19th had come all too quickly. Summer was quickly losing to autumn as leaves turned to reds, browns and yellows. They fell from their branches, creating a beautiful array of warm colors across the city grounds. As leaves fluttered and trees became bare, the busy streets had rushing cars whiz by. Leaves were kicked back up into the air again, and local ponds or rivers became cold and still. Trucks began salting the roads in preparation for fore-casted early frost. Winds picked up, carrying leaves through alleyways and past windows.

  


Dean and Castiel slept in that day. It was a Sunday, and they both had the day off from work. It wasn't until 11:23 AM that they woke one another up by moving into and away from each other.

  


"Mmmm..." Dean groaned, covering his eyes with his elbow to block out the daylight which cascaded into the room through the blinds and curtains which had been left open. Castiel responded with a matching noise and stretched out over Dean.

  


Cas looked up and down Dean's covered face, and Dean eventually peeked out from under his arm to look back at him.

  


"We should go out tonight." Dean mumbled. A couple pronunciations were distinct, but the rest Cas couldn’t make out into English.

  


“What?”

  


Dean moved his limb from his face and it hit the mattress, bouncing a bit before settling at his side. “We should go out tonight. For dinner.” The words were clear now, and Castiel smiled, nodding.

  


“I’d love to. But where?” He half sat up in the bed, propping up on his elbow. His fist laid against the side of his head above his ear, sending a sore pain through his knuckles. There was a hot sensation in his shoulder and bicep where the muscle became fatigued.

  


“There’s this diner I use to hear about all the time growing up. Star-somethin’.” Dean answered, mimicking Castiel’s movements and holding an endearing smile on his face. In the blue depths of Castiel’s eyes, Dean saw a fire lighting them up. They glistened with excitement and passion. That was the first thing Dean fell in love with.

  


“I’ll look it up.” Castiel kicked the covers off and got out of bed. He was wearing only socks and realized that when a breeze blew through his betweens. There was a rough impact on his ass and he looked over his shoulder to see Dean behind him. His hand had smacked his cheek, and squeezed tightly before walking away. Dean was fully clothed, Cas noted. He didn’t remember him dressing, he must’ve fallen asleep right after the sex.

  


“Like a horse.” Dean laughed, leaving the bedroom and going off to make lunch.

  


Castiel whinnied, only making Dean laugh harder. Castiel clothed up in a robe and tied it around his waist tight joining Dean in the kitchen. Castiel made the sandwiches and coffee while Dean sat at the desk and navigated through browsers to figure out what diner he had mentioned.

  


Cas served him his lunch, which he finished before he found the diner.

  


The search that got him there was ‘new york city star diner’ after trying to go through hundreds of pages of diners located in the city.

  


“Stardust Diner!” He exclaimed. That was it. I hear the waiters are people working to get on Broadway and stuff.” Dean validated himself as he chewed the bread and deli meat. “I’ll call in reservations.”

  


_Ring._

  


“This is Ellen’s Stardust Diner, how can we help you?” A bubbly young man’s voice asked.

  


“Yes, I’d like to place a reservation for two.”

  


“Alrighty.” He said. “At what time?”

  


“Uuh,” Dean said then pulled the phone from his mouth and looked up to Dean. “What time?”

  


“Seven.”

  


“Seven.” Dean echoed into the phone.

  


“Okei dokie.” The guy on the other end confirmed. “And under what name?”

  


“Winchester.”

  


“Wiiiinnchesterrrr…” The man drew out his voice as he spoke while writing the name down. “Okei dokie. Winchester at seven. See you then.”

  


“Thank you.” Dean said, and then the line went dead.

  


“So?” Castiel asked as he leaned on the counter sipping his coffee, and empty plate at his side once Dean hung up.

  


“I liked him,” Dean smiled, leaving the window to the diner’s front page open as he stood up to make himself another sandwich. “He says ‘okie dokie’.”

  


Castiel just rolled his eyes.

  


“Tonight at seven under Winchester.” Came Dean’s official response, and he planted a kiss on Castiel’s lips.

  


“Great.” Cas smiled back as his eyes flicked back and forth into both of Dean’s eyes. Dean walked past him to the fridge and swung it open pulling out the sandwich meats and cheeses again. He assembled himself a sandwich while Cas finished the last of his mug of coffee.

  


“Let’s go for a walk.” Dean suggested when they finished their meal. Castiel looked down at what he was wearing, then looked Dean up and down. “We can shower first.” Dean’s voice said ‘obviously, you idiot’ but he meant it in a loving way.

  


So they showered together. Massaging one another, grooming each other. Their hands ran down each other’s bodies in a sort of beautiful series of motions. Castiel’s hands went over Dean’s tattoo that forever imprinted his chest. It was a pentagram like shape but surrounded in a flaming circle. He called it an ‘anti-possession’ symbol.

  


“ _In remembrance of Sammy,” He had explained to Cas. His right hand’s fingers ran lightly over his tattoo as Castiel stared at his bare chest for the first time since the incident. It was seven months after, and the night he came home with the tat. “He was really superstitious and all.”_

  


_The second tattoo he had gotten was a hand-print on his right shoulder._

  


“ _It’s where my dad put his hand while he taught me how to use a gun and his crossbow when I was little,” Dean had explained when he came home with it. “And where my mom put her hand when she was proud of me, encouraging me.” He had smiled brightly in fond memory of his childhood. It was all he had left of his family._

  


_Castiel had smiled and put his hand over the tattoo, covering the image and the irritated skin around it. He wasn’t hiding it, but rather embracing it. “I love it.” Cas’s voice was low and soft, and Dean put a finger under his chin and pulled him into a loving kiss. He was gentle with Castiel that night, taking care of him beneath the sheets as they danced to the songs of their own pleasure._

 

After a 30 minute shower, they turned off the cooling water into the steamy room around them. They dried themselves off, then got dressed and headed out the door.

 

The walked for hours, passing by stores along the way. They went browsing through isles of all-too-expensive clothing targeted more towards tourists than residents. Bake shops were open as well, delivering sweet and savory smells along the sidewalks. This brought Dean in and he bought a huge slice of apple pie fresh from the oven. Castiel went for the vanilla cake. Cars and taxis honked and picked people up, the sound of pressure being released when buses opened their doors, and people talking or yelling.

 

They wound up sitting on a wooden bench overlooking a body of water. Geese waddled around them eyeing their food as they dug their forks into the desserts. The sun was setting in front of them painting the sky a peachy orange beneath the dark blues. The clouds varied from purples and pinks to yellows and oranges, their fluffy shapes and texture highlighted by the sinking rays. The moon was visible although it wasn't quite night yet. It still stood out against the darkening sky, its blue and not quite circular shape staring back down at them. Waiting, watching.

 

Dean hissed back at the geese if they tried to intimidate him into sharing his pie, while Cas giggled and tossed a small piece. The birds fought one another over it, but one was able to grab it and gulp it down. It looked like its head was twitching as it looked up and shook itself from the neck up to send the food down.

 

They finished their dessert by 5:48 as Dean's phone read, and threw their plates and forks in the nearby public trash can.

 

They walked the darkening streets together, hand in hand and in close proximity to one another. At some point Castiel had put his head down against Dean's shoulder while they walked. The passing crowds gave them uninterested glances, but were all too busy to manage more than that. They got some undesirable looks from older people, but nobody said a word.

 

At 6:30 they had circled back to their apartment and stood outside.

 

"Are we walking to the diner?" Castiel asked.

  
"Uuh..." Dean thought about it, taking into the account that his legs were sore and hit feet were killing him. "No, let's drive." He fished the keys from this coat pocket and led Castiel around to the garage and to the Impala. Dean took the driver's seat and Castiel took shotgun.

 

The diner wasn't too far away and they got there before seven. Dean parked in an empty space a half a block or so away from the restaurant since all the spaces nearby were taken up. They walked that much, and were greeted by a noisy yet welcoming environment.

 

"Hello!" Called a voice which brought their attention to a small podium with a young man standing behind it. Dean recognized the voice as the guy on the phone. "Welcome to Ellen's Stardust Diner. How may I help you?"

 

"I called in earlier for a reservation at seven." Dean said as he walked up to where the man was standing.

 

"Winchester?" He asked, and Dean smiled and nodded. "Right this way, sirs." The man's voice seemed sing-songy, but he wasn't exactly singing. The man seated them quickly at an empty table and he gave them both menus. "Your waiter will be out shortly." He smiled and left them to look through the menu.

 

"What're you having?" Dean asked as he took his jacket off to get comfortable. Castiel had gotten that focused, serious look on his face as he did whenever he was trying to make a decision.

 

"I think wings." Cas replied, and Dean nodded.

 

"Want to share an order?"

 

"Yeah."

 

"What flavor are we getting?"

 

"Hot."

 

"Awesome." Dean said.

 

A young red-headed woman appeared at the table in a cute work uniform and clutching a pen in one hand, and a clipboard with paper in the other. "Hi, I'm Charlie!" She sang happily, and Dean and Castiel both smiled up at her. "I'll be your waitress." Her singing voice was powerful and lively, and she had that deep edge to it that gave it a certain kick. Her voice was quite beautiful.

 

Dean clapped lightly, and Cas followed along with that.

 

"Beautiful!" Dean laughed.

 

"Can I start you two with drinks?"

 

"I'll have a Coke." Dean nodded and clapped the menu shut.

 

"Mmmmmk!" Charlie scribbled them down.

 

"I'll have a lemon ice tea." Castiel handed Dean his menu.

 

"Okay. And we're ready to order food as well?"

 

"Yes. We're sharing an order of hot wings." Castiel answered while Dean nodded along.

 

"Mmm, they're very good here." Charlie winked at him then slid her pen into the notebook when she finished writing.

 

It took about twenty minutes for her to return with their drinks and a huge dish of hot wings on a black tray.

 

"Here you are!" She sang out, and set the Coke in front of Dean and handed the tea to Castiel. She put the wings down between them both. There was two containers of bleu cheese on the edge of the basket the wings were soaking in. The chicken was a bright orange and had black flakes over it, and the smell gave away that they were very hot. "Enjoy!"

 

"Thank you." Dean smiled and Charlie walked off after nodding.

 

Castiel grabbed a wing first, sinking his teeth into the juicy and tender meat. He tore it off and chewed, the flavorful skin and savory meat mixing in his mouth to create a beautiful sensation of heat. He could feel his eyes watering a bit at the spicy kick of the sauce. He dipped the wing in bleu cheese and took another bite.

 

Dean dug in as well. He coughed in surprise at the spiciness but wasn't discouraged and ate, washing the chicken down with his Coke. Castiel took a break after a few wings and chugged his tea down as the bleu cheese worked to cool his mouth and the ice pushed the process along. It wouldn't last though, as he got right back into eating.

 

The dinner was mostly silent between them because the food was so delicious. They finished the wings and their drinks, then Dean waved over the bill. Charlie delivered it and stood idle while Dean slid his credit card in. She ran off to run the magnet to charge the amount due, then brought the receipt back for him to sign. Dean signed it, then left a $10 bill as a tip.

 

"Good luck with your singing career, Charlie." Dean said and she hugged him after he put on his jacket. "You have an amazing voice."

 

"Thank you." Charlie replied while in the hug, and she turned to Castiel. Cas stood still unsure if she was going to hug him as well, and she did. "You two have a great night." She smiled and cleared their plates while they thanked her back and left for the door. It rang behind them but the bell could barely be heard over the noise of the diner.

 

Once the door shut the streets seemed very quiet in comparison. They walked the sidewalk back to the car and Castiel hopped in while Dean walked around to the driver's seat. Turning the key in the ignition, the car came to life and they drove back to the apartment.

 

From how much they had stuffed themselves at the diner, they felt exhausted and collapsed into their bed. They didn't fall asleep for a long time, but curled up under the sheets. There was a full-screen TV Castiel had hung up on the wall they faced in bed, angling it so they could see it while laying down. Cas changed the channel to a network playing the movie Forrest Gump.

 

_"My momma always said, 'Life was like a box of chocolates.' You never know what you're gonna get...'"_

 


	18. Bite of September

The bite of September seemed to come too quick. The world was transitioning into autumn so companies were bringing out their winter supplies to sell, and food service industries were advertising warm food and drinks all over the place. Hot chocolate here, coffee there, hot desserts and meals everywhere in between.

 

Castiel added a couple layers of blankets to the bed, but they would soon become obsolete once November and December raided their apartment, guns ablaze.

 

It was work time for Dean who left at 8:00 AM sharp, driving to the office and riding the elevator up. He stepped off at 8:26 and was swept into the crowd as he made a bee-line for the break room. He got his coffee there now as it was a very quick brew, and made himself some toast to hold him over until lunch.

 

The day was filled with runs to get coffee or food for other workers. Or make copies of reports and files. Or act as a messenger between employee and boss, in which case he would open the door to a boss's office he had never met and be greeted with the phrase 'Who the hell are you?' each time before answering with the message to transfer. After the first five times he was asked that question, he stopped explaining who he was. They seemed to respond a lot better if he just got to the point.

 

Dean ran between floors of offices, spending most of his time in the elevator going up and down. Lucky for him the elevator was incredibly fast and could reach the ground level to the roof in about 8 seconds. When he did go between a wide range of floors, he could feel the air pressure changes. As a result, lots of dizziness and lightheaded-ness.

 

With roughly 100 floors to go between, the days ended in tired heaps on the couch with half his clothes thrown aside as the heat kicked on in the apartment. Castiel would find Dean either eating or passed out, but always on the couch.

 

\- - -

 

Castiel's day was exhausting as well, but hardly stressful. He got on either public buses or subway to the nearest stop by the Knight's and walked the rest, or paid a taxi to drop him off at the gate. He would pay and thank them, then walk up to the small keypad which locked the gate.

 

127666

 

The gate clicked as the magnetic field turned off, and Cas swung the iron bars open. They hit the hinge's maximum span and swung back to slam shut. The keypad beeped, then locked back up.

 

The driveway to the Knight's mansion wasn't as long as it had seemed on the first day Castiel arrived. Sure, it was longer than the average driveway, but the walk there felt a whole lot shorter. He walked past the porch and around the house. His hand dragged flat across the bricks, its rough texture coarse against his skin. It felt good though, it sort of kept him awake this early in the morning. Kept him in reality.

 

When he rounded the house into the backyard there was a man hunched over his garden, working with it. He was holding a small trowel in one hand, and a measuring tape in the other.

 

"Hello?" Castiel stopped in his tracks, and his words brought the attention of the man to him. The man smiled, standing upright.

 

"Hi there," He called back.

 

"Who are you?" Castiel asked stepping forward, eyes cautious on him. He was obviously trusted as he would have needed to either know the passcode or have gotten past Azazel on the speaker.

 

"Name's Cole. Knights hired me to work in the garden." The man answered. Castiel's mind raced. Had he been replaced, did he miss the paperwork that said he was fired?

 

"Excuse me?"

 

"Uh," Cole studdered, looking as though he didn't know how to respond. "Figured they would've told you. I'm here to build a greenhouse so the plants can go through the winter. It'll be insulated and what-not..." His voice trailed off.

 

Castiel felt a weight lift from his chest, and he sighed in relief. "Oh." He smiled. "No, they didn't tell me. Or maybe they mentioned it, but I don't recall." Cas stepped over the rocks he had set in as a path and made his way towards Cole, reaching out his hand. "I'm Castiel, the gardener."

  
"Nice to meet you." Cole smiled up at him, shaking Cas's hand firmly.

 

Cole pointed a finger to the farthest corner. "The thermostat will go there, that way you can set it up right when you open the door." He explained as Castiel followed his finger and nodded.

 

There would be a heavy set of transparent insulation between the glass walls, and huge lights on the ceiling. There would be two sets of double doors, the area between the sets being heated during the winter. Each crop would be replanted in rows according to the adjustments they'd have to make in the ground. The set up would be much more organized and possibly more gorgeous than before.

 

By the end of the day Cole and Castiel had managed to set up the framework for the greenhouse based on Cole's blueprints. Cole had left by 1 PM, and Castiel worked at tending the flowers in the front yard until 2 PM.

 

The ride home was socially taxing on Cas. The taxi driver was talkative and inquisitive, wondering what relation he had to the Knights. How long had he worked for them? What did he do for them? Oh wow, all the way from Kansas?

 

That's why Castiel was happy to leave, to get out of the interogation and into the elevator on the ground floor. It rose slowly up to the apartment where he saw the image that awaited him in his head.

 

It was only 2:20 when he walked into the apartment. He settled down on the couch for a while, flipping on a channel that was showing Apollo 13. Castiel fell asleep about twenty minutes into the movie and sank down into the cushions.

 

He awoke at 5:16 with the imprint of a pillow's design on his face, the swirls and lines decorating a reddened cheek. An open hand rubbed it and he groaned, the bumps intricate beneath fingertips. Castiel rocked forward and pushed himself to a stand. His arms expanded into a stretch, his mouth opening to yawn, relaxing his jaw muscles. Once arms returned to his sides he bent on and dragged his nails over his back. Castiel slowly walked to the fridge, socks sliding on the linoleum. Opening the fridge, his eyes looked up and down the barren shelves.

 

Shopping time, Castiel thought. He grabbed his trench coat off the back of the sofa, grabbed his keys from the pocket, and carried both out. Locking the apartment door behind him, Cas rode the elevator down and walked out into the evening sunlight. The grocery store was a small place just down the road, so he didn't bother hailing a cab.

 

The walk was nice. Refreshing. Castiel could feel the air numbing his ears and fingers, could feel the coolness in his lungs with each inhale. The grocery store came into view after about ten minutes, and he quickened his pace to get out of the cold.

 

Castie went to produce first. He grabbed grapes and apples, cucumbers, and celery. Throwing that in the basket, he wandered around the whole store. Bread, deli meats, chicken breast, milk, cheese, chips.

 

The line was long, so Castiel grabbed a place in it before it extended more. The couple in front of him had a cart full of things, as did the man in front of them. Cas took out his phone to look at the time. 6:23.

 

By the time he got home, Dean would probably have been home for half an hour and situated on the couch. Castiel's turn came up next and he looked to his phone again. 6:40. Seventeen minutes later, and he still hadn't checked out. He grabbed two chocolate bars off the shelf in line and dropped them in the cart.

 

The walk home was just tiring, he wanted to be curled up on the couch in Dean's arms eating the chocolate while chicken noodle soup cooked on the stove.

 

The lights were dimmed so eyes were comfortable in the environment. The stove was off, but a pot over it was left uncovered and still steaming. Dean had taken on a globulous shape in the form of blankets cacooned in warmth and fuzz. He was awake with a bowl of popcorn sitting half empty on the coffee table. His arms were sticking out, hands wrapped around a cup of hot milk. Castiel was unsure how Dean stomached hot milk, it both smelled and tasted repulsive. He joined him nonetheless, wrapping the blanket around him so his sleeve touched Dean's. Dean moved the arm closest to Cas over around his shoulders, the other one balancing the hot milk. He took a sip, then leaned forward and placed it on the coffee table.

 

An episode of Dr. Sexy, M.D was playing on the screen with high volume.

 

"Why is he wearing cowboy boots?" Castiel piped up when the camera panned past his feet.

 

"It's part of what makes him sexy." Dean rolled his eyes, sighing sarcastically as though Castiel should know this. "Duh."

 

"Oh, well excuse me. I didn't realize you were obsessed with the show."

 

"Obsessed?" Dean smirked. "I think should write my own story about the show. A tragic love story that causes hearts to bleed." His voice was as dramatic as he could make it, moving his hands in a soap opera manner. He turned to make eye contact with Cas, a menacing smile held. "Is that 'obsessed'?"

 

"Pathetic." Castiel replied quite bluntly, pecking Dean's lips.

 


	19. Never Forget

"We're doing great, yeah," Castiel said while Dean sat on the edge of the bed, fitting his boots on his feet. Cas was sitting up with his phone to his ear.

 

"Yes, everything is perfect. I promise." Cas laughed into the phone. "He's right here, yeah. He got called into work. Was supposed to be his day off but I think they moved that to tomorrow. Mhm." He was talking to Megan, who he returned a call first thing in the morning when he saw he had missed her calls the previous night. They'd been keeping up well with check-ins like Castiel had told her to.

 

Megan was like a mother figure to Castiel, really. She made sure he was eating and sleeping right even over the phone. Made sure he was in good health all around, as was Dean. What Castiel noticed, though, is she didn't really care about Dean's health in the matter of 'Is he okay?' but more as a way of asking if Castiel was okay as a result.

 

He was fine. New York was amazing for him.

 

"I'm just excited for Christmas in Rockefeller, and New Years Eve in Time Square. We're gonna finally see them in person." Castiel had rolled onto his back at this point, knees bent up in his arm as one hand held the phone to his ear and the other played with a loose string from the knit blanket. "I hope it's just as amazing as it looks on TV."

 

Dean was smiling as he listen to Castiel talking away. He had finished lacing his shoes together and was standing up facing Cas. Dean went to bend over Castiel, and puckered his lips up. Cas smiled up at Dean and kissed him, moving the phone receiver away from his mouth a little to talk.

 

"When will you be home tonight? I'll have dinner ready." Castiel offered, and Dean chuckled. "What?"

 

"I'll be home around 6," Dean smiled, and walked over to the standing mirror to adjust his collar. "Nothing, I just love you." Dean grinned through the mirror.

 

Castiel laughed through closed lips. "Love you too." He said. Megan had gone quiet, so she could probably hear Cas still and didn't want to interrupt.

 

"See you tonight." Dean laid another kiss on Castiel's forehead, then left the bedroom.

 

"See you," Cas called out, then moved the phone back in place. "Sorry, go ahead."

 

Dean locked the apartment behind him, then walked the short length of the hallway down to the elevator. His fingers met the plastic of the triangular button pointing down, and he pushed it until a red light flickered on. The doors slid open a couple seconds after, revealing a small and carpeted area. Dean stepped in and clicked the '1' button. The doors slid shut, and he dropped.

 

The lobby was pretty empty as well, and Dean made his way past the desk a door that led to another hallway. This one wound around the southern side of the apartment tower and led out to the garage. His Impala was parked in one of the spaces nearby, with a white sudan on its right and an empty space on the left.

 

Ducking into the driver's seat, Dean wrestled with his pocket to get the keys out. Once out, the key slid into place teeth-up and he twisted. The engine sputtered, then quit.

 

"No no, shit. C'mon baby, you got this." Another twist. The engine did the same thing, but this time burst to life.

 

"Yes!" Dean said, patting the top of the dashboard. She purred back. Shutting the door, Dean settled into the seat. He leaned forward and turned the radio on, then twisted the knob until it found a station he liked. Led Zeppelin was blasting through the car, shaking it with each heavy note.

 

"Oh, Gabriel, let me blow your horn. Let me blow your horn. Oh, I never did, did no harm. " Dean sang along as he backed out of the garage, grinning and bobbing his head. He headed towards the offices, doing air guitar at red lights along the way.

 

Bob Dylan's 'Going, Going, Gone' played on the radio before Dean cut the engine, then opened his door. He shoved the keys back into his jacket pocket and walked to the front door of the office building. As he reached out to grab the door handle, he pulled his phone from his pocket. It read 8:10.

 

"Ah shit, I'm late." Dean groaned, letting the door slam behind him as he quickened his pace. He had been requested to be in Ralenti's office at 8:00, so he had no time to spare as the elevator shot him up to the 22nd floor. It was 8:11 when he looked at his phone again, sprinting through the sea of employees as fast as he could. Down the hallway he ran, passing Bobbie on his way over. She waved to him, but he shook his head and mouthed the word 'late' and she nodded, mouthing back 'good luck' and smiling. His hand met the cold metal handle of the door that had 'RALENTI' tagged on it, and he twisted it down and flew the door open. Tod had been talking, and he cut off his sentence and looked up to Dean without a word. The two men seated in front of him turned around and looked over their shoulders to do the same. "I'm so sorry." Dean apologized to them, nodding his head down in greeting. "I guess I lost track of time." Tod just made a motion for him to join them. Dean shoved his phone away, then stood beside the man on the left.

 

"So, as I was saying, I do believe it would be best if we..." Tod was talking again now, but not to Dean. He made hand motions and leaned back in his chair as he spoke to the two men in front of him. On his desk sat a huge cheeseburger with what smelled like very greasy bacon on top. There was lettuce dripping with Ketchup on one side, and a pickle peeking out from beneath the bun. It looked extremely tasty, and Dean wondered where Tod had gotten it from.

 

"Dean." He looked up from the burger to see Tod staring at him. "He asked you a question."

 

"Oh, sorry. What was it?" Dean asked, turning his attention towards the man Tod had nodded towards.

 

"What does your schedule look like right now?"

 

"I don't know, actually. Today was supposed to be my day off but Mr. Ralenti called me in. My schedule is filled with whatever he wanted me to do."

 

"Perfect." The man smiled and clasped his hands together. "If he doesn't mind then, I'd like you to go up to floor 76 and meet my business partner."

 

Dean looked to Ralenti like a child waiting for permission.

 

"What I had for you to do can be done at the same time." Tod said, then leaned down to a drawer under his desk and pulled out a stack of papers. "On floor 83 is Mr. Ross Krieg, he needs these papers by today and I took the liberty of staying late last night to make sure they were ready for him by this morning."

 

"Can do." Dean said, standing up and accepting the papers into his hands. It was a loaded manilla folder fastened with that metal clip at the top. The corner was stamped in black ink and read 'ROSS KRIEG' at the top. The man who asked him to meet his business partner stood as well, and led him out of the room to the elevator. They stepped in and were sent up to floor 83.

 

"Let's see Mr. Krieg first, it seems more urgent." The man said, and Dean nodded as he held the papers under his arm.

 

The elevator doors opened, and they stepped into a similar looking floor. People in black suits swarmed and parted as they walked through. Down a hallway, a door reading 'KRIEG' at the top

 - - -

Castiel and Megan talked for at least an hour. They talked about everything- be it their jobs, what they had to eat, the holidays and plans for them, especially how they were doing.

 

A few minutes into the conversation they went quiet.

 

It sounded like Megan was trying to say something from the guttural hesitation, but she didn't at first. Castiel opened his mouth to move the conversation along as well, but then she decided to speak up.

 

"Are you still addicted?" Her voice had suddenly dropped from giggling and polite laughs to worry.

 

"Not really."

 

"What does that mean?"

 

"Uh," Castiel lost his train of thought, rolling an undone thread from the blanket in between his thumb and index anxiously. "I mean... I don't know. I'm not I don't think."

 

"Well, do you still take them?"

 

"...Yeah."

 

"Excessively?"

 

"Define excessively."

 

Megan groaned on the other line. "Like, three or four a day."

 

"Oh." Castiel paused. He could picture Megan's face right now- big eyes, disappointed thin lips pursed together, arms passive-aggressively crossed at her chest. "No, I don't do that anymore. I mean, I still... Take them. But only for real pain."

 

"That's good." Megan said, and the tension loosened up between them. "Well, I have to go to work now. I'll call you later, okay?"

 

"Okay." Castiel said. He still had about two hours before work started he realized when they hung up and the clock on his phone said 7:17. Cas threw the sheets aside, and stood out of bed. He had a busy day ahead of him, today the crops were to be reorganized onto table plots in the greenhouse permeters. Castiel walked to the kitchen, long t-shirt draping behind him as he walked. His hand met the cool metal of the fridge handle, leaving his prints all over the shiny steel and swinging the door open. A light flicked on and a wall of cold air swept into Cas's face and drifted against his bare arms and legs. He leaned into the fridge so his head was in and hand holding the fridge open behind him. Eggs, milk, and drawers full of cheeses and deli meats and produce. His hands went for the dozen carton of eggs, and set the blue foam down on the counter by the stove. Next he grabbed the gallon of milk from a shelf, and let the fridge door swing back shut.

 

The eggs were cracked in a small bowl, two to be exact, and he estimated the amount of milk he needed. Well, more like guessed. Whisking them together with a fork, Castiel hummed a tune that he couldn't place the song to. Once the eggs and milk became one, Cas turned a burner on and set a metal pan down. He let it heat up enough, then poured the mixture onto it. He grabbed a plastic spatula, and worked at the eggs until they were thoroughly cooked. The scrambled eggs took up about a quarter of the plate, so he made more and loaded them up with salt and pepper once the plate was filled. He sat at the table, still humming as he got ready to eat. The eggs were delicious, and gone in about five minutes.

 

Castiel put the plate and fork in the sink, grabbed a glass and filled it halfway with milk. He chugged that, then let out a refreshed gasp when it was gone. He took out his phone and looked at the time to see how far 10:00 was.

 

Two and a half hours to go.

 

Castiel set his phone on the counter, then walked to the short stack of envelopes and folded papers setting on the edge of the counter. Some were for him, others for Dean. A lot of them were labeled 'WTC: Mr. Dean Winchester' as newsletters, paychecks, and the like. A few were junk mail, spam, or Castiel's paychecks labeled 'Mr. Castiel Novak'.

 

"Blah, blah, blah," Castiel muttered, letting all the envelopes that weren't his money fall back to the counter. He walked back into the bedroom and pulled the sheets back over the corners of the mattress. He fixed up the blankets on top and fluffed the pillows a little. He ran a hand flat over the sheets to smooth them out. He began staring out the bedroom window, watching the sun beating down on hot pavements. Cars raced past one another, beeping at pedestrians or other drivers.

 

Cas was brought back into reality when the house phone was ringing. Once he stepped out of the bedroom it stopped, then silence. Before he walked to the home phone he grabbed his cell from the counter and looked at it. Missed call from Dean. The time was 7:49. Still about two hours, a little over that.

 

Castiel set his phone down, assuming he'd leave a voicemail. His next move was the remote to the TV, where he flipped to a news station. Two anchors were talking, probably about some political thing he didn't much care for. He headed over to his laptop and browsed through online stores for things he couldn't afford. Around 8:36 he leaned back in his chair , rubbing his hands down his face. He sat for a what seemed more like an hour but was really only 9 minutes, lost in his thoughts. When he looked at the clock next, it read 8:45.

 

_A large passenger commercial jet._

 

The words caught Castiel's attention and he turned in his seat, walking to the couch with eyes watching the screen. He sat down in a cushion, crossing one leg so the ankle rested upon his knee. His elbows were laid against the calf of the raised leg, leaning forward in his chair in focus. It was hard to soak up what was being said, but Cas picked up bits and pieces of the live interview.

 

 _...it hit at a slight angle into the World Trade Center_.

 

_...It is not a normal flight pattern..._

No, Castiel thought to himself. He couldn't move, and at some point his chest stopped moving. He couldn't breathe either. All he could manage to do was watch, listen. Thousands of words ran through his head, but the loudest of them all screamed **Dean**.

 

_...A large section of the building had been blown out around the 80th floor..._

 

A live shot of the building appeared on the corner of the scream. Smoke was billowing from the floors hit, and the tail of an airplane in flames and explosions stuck out from the building. Its wings could be seen slightly.

 

**Dean, Dean, Dean.**

The anchors and eyewitness accounts just kept talking.

 

 _How are they getting out of the building?_ Was one thought that overcame the rest in Castiel's head. _How?_

 

That's when the camera zoomed in on the towers. It wasn't the highest of definition, but Cas could make out the images of people jumping from the windows. The building collapsing in on itself at a quick pace. They just kept jumping. Tears had welled up in Castiel's eyes as he watched the horrific shots. All different angles, videos from phones sent in and captures from helicopters.

 

Castiel felt a weight in his chest. It was almost like he felt the loss before it was confirmed.

 

The news anchors talked, but the words drowned out into background noise as Cas's thoughts merged into the foreground. How will Dean get out? What is going on?

 

The anchors talked about hijacking, stray flight, so many terms flew past his head.

 

At 9:03 the second tower is hit by another jet gone off track. It's just as bad as the first. Explosion, smoke, fire, collapsing, jumping.

 

At 9:31, the news station flipped to the President's address to the nation. This is the first Castiel thinks of the crashes as a terrorist attack.

 

 _A terrorist attack? What the hell does that mean?_ Castiel had ten questions for every answer given, but all he could do was sit quietly as he watched.

 

9:37 AM.

 

Flight 77 has crashed into the Pentagon.

 

All sense of security that may have been with Castiel prior is gone. Obsolete. He's sweating, shaking, nervous, anxious, and all other synonyms.

 

The south tower collapses entirely at 9:59 AM. The fall lasted about 10 seconds, but the news station keeps replaying the shot over and over. Slowing it down, speeding it back up. There's no end.

 

10:03 AM, a plane crashes in a field in Shanksville, Pa.

 

The north tower, after burning for almost two hours, collapses. Dust and smoke spreads over the streets as people run in all directions as fast as they can. Firemen are running into the mess.

 

Live video is shown of what is left of the towers. Where they use to stand tall, there is nothing. The damage is absolute, a barren land.

 

 _They have to be there somewhere,_ Castiel reasoned, trying to look harder for the two towers. _They can't just be gone._

 

Gone wasn't enough to describe it.

 

Castiel didn't move from the couch for hours. He never called into work, never even turned the TV off. All that was playing was the same videos of the Twin Towers crashing over and over again. It was the cover story of every news station, and they never stopped going back over the same videos and same stories of eyewitness accounts.

 

The clock moved fast, every hour seemed to last a second as Cas drowned himself in sorrows and tears. His shirt collar and the couch cushion were drenched in tears he didn't even realize were escaping. Nose dripping and vision blurry, Castiel finally moved from the couch. He sat up, wiping his sleeves over his eyes. The cloth irritated the skin leaving it red and swollen as salty tears stained his lips. Cas's tongue darted out every once in a while to soothe dry lips and the bitter sweet taste left a memory of pain in his throat. Castiel found to his feet stumbling a bit. His eyes were clear for a few seconds, and he took the opportunity to look up to the clock.

 

6:15.

 

"Any second now." Castiel sniffled, pulling his sleeves down over his hands. He walked to the kitchen, mouth open so he could breathe as his nose had become runny and stuffy. He opened the fridge and grabbed the orange juice bottle. "No pulp, 100% concentrated," Cas read the label aloud. Anything to distract his mind from what the day had held for him. He filled a glass to the brim, and left the orange juice jug uncapped on the counter. Turning, he exhaled deeply before taking down the whole glass. The glass met the scalding water Cas turned on from the sink, and he began scrubbing it. He forgot to use soap, and a sponge, and forgot that he could get burned. He kept scrubbing until his brain recognized the pain and made him take his hand away. The glass dropped in the sink, making a loud clink noise. Cas hit the water spout off, then walked back to the couch. He collapsed on it, slouching with his arm over his stomach. His eyes pulled back up to the clock.

 

6:29.

 

"He'll be home any second. Patience." Castiel's voice was full of fake hope as he tumbled into denial.

 

Castiel kept repeating the words as he watched the second hand slowly make its rounds, followed by the minute and hour hand going around the twelve digits even slower.

 

Any second.

 

The hour hand was on the eight and the minute hand a little past the three. Cas was in the same position, eyes half open and tears rolling down his cheeks and past his lips. Some dripped from his chin where the salty mess had claimed a small puddle making the white shirt transparent and stuck to his chest. The rest slid against his tongue leaving a trail as air fought to dry it out. His eyes were red and puffy though he hadn't rubbed them in hours. Cas's throat felt swolled and scratchy. Any sound he tried to make, the two words he tried to repeat, would claw their way up his throat but fail to escape as the tears washed them back down.

 

Any second.

 

Those seconds turned to minutes, which turned to hours. 9 PM. 2 AM. 8 AM.

 

Castiel hadn't moved. The skin on his face was tight and dried from the tears. His mouth was still open, staring at the TV as they covered the weather. Covered sporting events. Covered school events, charities.

 

It all rolled back around to the previous day's events. They replayed the video where the first tower hit crashed down. Fire, smoke, dust, jumping. So. Many. Jumping. Castiel remained in silence in the dark of the apartment. It was exhaustingly lonely, and he almost closed his eyes to sleep. The all-too-familiar crumbling sound of beams snapping and people screaming nearly lulled him to sleep now, rather than the shock it delivered previously. It was interrupted when a new sound came from the TV. A beep. Multiple beeps, almost like that of a voicemail. Castiel jumped back awake.

 

Voicemails played from victims of the crashes. The first flight, second flight, third flight. Those in the first building, the second building, the section of the Pentagon.

 

Voicemails of people calm and in control explaining the situation to loved ones. Saying their goodbyes, their affections, their hopes and dreams.

 

Voicemails of people panicked and crying, screaming. Hopeless, destroyed, about to meet their demises. Realizations of hijack, realizations of off-course flight, realizations that their lives would be taken against their will in order to take the lives of others against their wills.

 

That's when it hit Castiel. He forgot about the voicemail Dean had left for him after he forgot to pick up his phone the previous morning. Cas got to his feet, rubbing his hands down his face. Back up, down again. He stumbled around the arm of the couch and to the phone. A green light blinked, beckoning Castiel to listen.

 

His finger met the button to playback the last words Dean ever said to him.

  
**You have one new voicemail.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to my editor Natalie (@kyloren_reylo)
> 
> Also dedicated to @snfandom.akf.yana


	20. He'd Say

Megan rattled the key in the lock, trying to use the cheaply made replica key to get into Castiel's apartment. It kept sliding back out or refusing to turn, so she groaned and put her ear to the door. She could hear Dean's voice behind it.

 

_Oh, thank God_ , she thought. He was talking affectionately, calmly. Megan couldn't make out what he was saying, but at least he was alive.

 

Castiel hadn't been returning her calls for the past three days and as promised, she drove up to New York City since all flights had been halted.

 

"Castiel?" She asked, knocking on the door. No answer. "Dean?" Still nothing.

 

This time, Megan grabbed the handle of the door and pulled it tightly closed and shoved the key in. It twisted easily and unlocked with a significant _click_.

 

Megan threw the door open and Dean's voice became clearer. He was talking, and kept repeating his words. Megan's eyes looked around for where he could be, where they both were. She flew through the door to the living room, looking around the kitchen. Dean's voice kept going. When a sentence was done, there was a beep and the same sentence restarted.

 

She went to the couch next, and there was a wired phone with a bright flashing green light. Dean's voice was coming from the box as a voicemail. Megan hit the stop button, and his voice cut off.

 

The apartment became silent. Megan sighed and looked around the bedroom. There was nothing around, no evidence of Castiel or Dean or any other person having been here. He's probably out for a walk to calm down, Megan told herself.

 

Her eyes caught on a glass door slightly hidden by the closet one. It had a white frame around it and a metal handle. The door was slightly ajar.

 

"Castiel," Megan called out, her steps slow as she walked for she feared the worst. When she stood at the door, she took a deep breath and prepared herself for what she knew she'd have to see at some point. Her arm was shaking, and she raised it up to the door. Her hand laid flat on the fractal glass pattern that let light through but obscured shapes and colors. Not much force was needed to open it up. The door opened most of the way, but stopped when it met something in the way.

 

Megan's hands went up to cup around her nose and mouth, thumbs against her cheekbones. Her eyes couldn't look away. Her entire body was shaking, and she felt tears welling up behind her lashes. They fell through, streaming down her cheeks.

 

"Castiel," She cried out. Two steps into the bathroom and she knelt down beside him. She grabbed his shirt and pulled him up so he sat against the cabinets under the sink. There was a glass tipped over and water staining down the wood cabinets to puddle onto the floor, seeping through the seam between the cabinet and the linoleum floor. 

 

Orange bottles were scattered across the white tiles, their accompanying caps off and thrown around. It looked as though they had been flung off the counter. Probably by Castiel's arm. What she noticed was that they were all empty.

 

"Castiel," Megan pleaded again as her eyes went back to him. His skin was cold and stiff, with more of a bluish tint to it. His shirt stuck to his skin where tears dried. Megan's own vision was getting blurry with her own tears, which were consistently running down her cheeks and chin. Megan shook him, praying that those pretty blue eyes would open back up and smile up at her.

 

_I'm fine_ , he'd say and laugh a bit. 

 

_I flushed all the pills so I couldn't hurt myself with them_ , he'd say.

 

_Dean's fine too, he is out getting groceries_ , he'd say.

 

_I'm glad to see you again,_ he'd say.

 

_Thank you_ , he'd say.

 

But those lips didn't move, those eyes didn't open. Megan shook him more, but his head only rolled downwards so he was facing the floor.

 

"Castiel, please," Megan begged more, but her voice showed just how hopeless she was. Her voice ran out quickly into sobbing as her forehead went down to Cas's chest. His shirt became stained with more tears, but not his own.

 

"Please," She whispered once more.

 

\- - -

 

_ Hey Cas, _

_ I'm just calling to let you know I got to work. I'm not really sure what time I'll be home. Probably like, six or seven-ish. Uuuh, yeah.  _

 

Pause. 

 

_ Oh, I wanted to know if I should pick anything up from the store on my way home. Food, supplies, whatever. Give me a call. See you tonight. I love you. _

 

Beep.

Repeat.

 

The night of September 12th was painful. Castiel had gotten past his denial and skipped right to depression. He pressed the power button on the remote, the news cutting off with a faint click and the screen fading to black. Cas mustered up the strength to stand up from the couch. It was about 9 PM on a Wednesday and Castiel hadn't even called in for work at all.

 

The apartment was still, and the voicemail was stuck on repeat.

 

Nothing had moved for hours on end, and now the dust became unsettled when Castiel walked to the bedroom and collapsed into bed. Cas crawled into the covers. The tears had stopped a while ago, and he had just become mute.

 

Castiel shut his eyes, falling asleep in slow progression. Hours went by with his mind wandering, flipping around as he tried to find the familiar warmth behind him that he so longed for. It was gone.

 

Dean was gone.

 

It hit him hard. Sure, he'd always considered the possibilities of having to leave Dean when he was drinking. Leave forever. But in those situations, he was always in control. Nothing came as a surprise to him and he'd made his peace with not being able to see him anymore.

 

Dean changed though. Dean stopped drinking, stopped acting out in violence and rage. The Dean that Castiel had fallen in love with resurfaced and floated, breathing fresh air into their move to New York City.

 

New York City. That's where they really went wrong.

 

_It's my fault, I pushed for us to move here. Of all places, here,_ Castiel thought the whole thing through. _And now, he's gone. I never really had control, did I? Not really._

 

Around 12:20, Castiel finally fell asleep.

 

Pictures rolled through his head. Scenarios he wouldn't remember once he woke up, images and characters and meanings that his brain would delete once the real world came into view.

 

What he would remember though, was the return of the train dream.

 

\- - -

 

Welcome to New York! A man said, casting his hand over to point out the train window to direct the passenger's eyes to the view of skyscraers covering the horizon. Castiel grabbed Dean's jacket, shaking it slightly to get his attention from the pamphlet he had been reading.

 

Look! Castiel said, Dean catching his eyes before Cas turned to face out the window and point.

 

"Wow, look at that." Dean said, leaning over Castiel to get a better look. "It looks so cool."

 

An array of silver, white, grey and glass decorated the skyline, reflecting lights everywhere. It was day now, and a blue sky clear of clouds provided a gorgeous backdrop to the buildings. 15 minutes went by, and the conductor stopped the train. They had stopped in front of the hotel all the passengers were staying at. Dean and Castiel were near the back of the line, and passengers were standing in a line to get out.

 

Screeching of car wheels filed the air, causing the train to go silent. The car, as it got closer, was a large and bulky truck. The driver seemed to be freaking out, their brakes not working. The driver's arms raised above their face as if it would do anything on a collision course with the train. The truck hit straight on, killing the driver, and enough force so that the train started tipping over. On the left side of the train was a somewhat steep hillside, and on the right the crashed truck. The train tipped, and tipped, until it started rolling down. Castiel closed his eyes, hands being clenched to Dean's jacket as Dean wrapped his arms around Cas.

 

\- - -

 

The train had rolled just once this time and Castiel woke up in a sweat. It was 9 AM when he looked at his phone.

 

One missed call from Megan.

 

Castiel groaned and rolled out of bed to his feet. His knees threatened to buckle under him from the sudden weight which had become uncomfortable to them, calves burning and thighs aching under his form.

 

Castiel almost tripped as a blanket wrapped around his foot and tightened when he walked forward. Catching himself on the bed, Cas worked his foot from the sheet's persistent grip and left the bedroom to find the orange juice still open by the sink.

 

"Shit." He said, running a hand back and forth in his messy hair. He grabbed the cap to the juice that was sitting beside the carton and twisted it back on. Cas tossed it back in the fridge and let the door slam shut.

 

Castiel's day was quite mundane. He called the Knights to let them know he wasn't coming in that day.

 

He never called Megan back.

 

Castiel went to bed again that night, but something clicked in his head. Three little words that sent a wave of guilt, depression, anger, rage and pain through his chest. True heartbreak.

 

**Dean is dead.**

 

He hadn't put the words together yet, 'Dean' and 'dead'. Castiel had always told himself Dean was just gone. The admission made his heart shatter into millions of pieces. Cas fell from the sheets and stumbled to the bathroom. He flung the medicine cabinet's mirrored door open and grabbed a bottle of Vicodin.

 

His hands found the glass that sat beside the pill bottles and filled it with water at the sink.

 

He took down the recommended amount, gulped the cold water with it and gasped for air after. _The Vicodin would take away the pain_ , he reasoned. _That's what it does._

 

The two he'd taken didn't even make a dent. Two more. Two more.

 

Just two more, Castiel told himself over and over. He could feel the pills taking some sort of effect, so he kept going. Once he got enough inside him, he'd never feel pain again.

 

The opiates slowed his breathing. He fell down feeling too weak to stay standing. His back slid down the wooden cabinets placed beneath the sink and counter, and his head rolled to the side. His arm had swiped over the counter, taking about four or five empty Vicodin bottles down with him. The glass of water spilled over.

 

Castiel's heart rate slowed, his breathing became shallow and forced. He could feel his ribs tightening and lungs becoming less and less elastic. The air supply wasn't enough to keep him awake, and his eyes were becoming heavier each second. Cas could hear the voicemail Dean left him playing in the background coming from the phone in the living room.

 

_Hey Cas_ ,

 

Castiel coughed.

 

_ I'm just calling to let you know I got to work. I'm not really sure what time I'll be home. Probably like, six or seven-ish. Uuuh, yeah.  _

 

Pause. Castiel felt the final tear slide down his cheek.

 

_ Oh, I wanted to know if I should pick anything up from the store on my way home. Food, supplies, whatever. Give me a call. See you tonight. I love you. _

 

Beep.

 

Castiel closed his eyes, his body feeling immune to pain. He'd gone numb, though he couldn't tell if that was from the Vicodin's painkillers or the fact that he couldn't breathe.

 

Cas's chest stopped moving, his lips becoming dry as his mouth held open.

 

Once his eyes shut, he felt himself slipping away from reality.

  
The last thing Castiel saw was the second roll of the train.


End file.
